


For the Greater Good

by Oliviian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Dark Character, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hogwarts, Loneliness, Magic, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, O.W.L.s | Ordinary Wizarding Levels, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22709434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oliviian/pseuds/Oliviian
Summary: Shes been taken away from everything she knew, and more importantly, ripped away from her father. She had been glued to his side since she was born, what would she do without him? She is being forced to attend Hogwarts, and forced into a new war, only this time on the side of the light. She's lost and alone for the first time in her life, and she has never been more afraid.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Original Character(s), Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 20
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

I do not own Harry Potter. I only own Anastasia (Anya). I hope you guys enjoy the story! I made a couple small changes to this chapter that were bothering me but there is no need to re-read it if you already have. I put in some Hungarian, it might be wrong and if it is forgiving me. I got it from google translate. I thought it would make a nice touch since English isn’t Anya’s native language.

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It was the summer of 1945; the sun was slowly sinking in the horizon and the air pulsed with power. It felt like electricity to all those who paid close enough attention to feel it. If you were to only look at the sky, it would be a beautiful sight, one you would find in a story book. But looking towards the ground, it showed horrors and destruction.

Flashes of light illuminated the growing darkness; the sounds of explosions and screams rocked the earth. Still bodies littered the dirt, while the living were fighting. Dozens were locked in a dance to the death, using every ounce of their power to defeat the other. Through the chaos a beautiful young girl with blonde hair raced through the streets, using her wand to curse anyone who stood in her way. Her blue eyes were alight with determination, hate, and the slightest bit of panic and fear. Her boots stomped through the blood that filled the streets, not bothering to glance at the bodies that piled around her.

“Papa!” She yelled, searching for a man with the same platinum blonde hair she had. No one was in sight. She saw a man pointing his wand at her, she sent a curse his way, before fleeing down an alley to her right. “Papa!” She called again, desperation slipping into her voice. She flung herself out of the alley and stood in the chaos around her. She was breathing heavily; her blonde hair was a mess and she was disheveled looking. “Papa! Please!” She cried as she circled around. She felt a fierce grip on her arm, that whirled her around. She tensed up and was ready to shoot a hex when she saw the man she was desperately looking for in front of her, his hand being the one gripping her arm.

His identical blonde hair was messy, and his ice blue eyes bore into hers. It was impossible to place them as strangers, even to those who did not know the pair. Their identical hair, eyes, high cheekbones, and sharp jaws were proof to their close relation. “Papa!” She cried in relief, throwing herself into his firm chest. His arms wrapped firmly around her, before he apparated them both to a rooftop. He pulled away and placed his large hands on both sides of the girl’s head and put their foreheads together.

“My darling girl, the time has come. I feel this will be the end of our journey.” He said to her gently in Hungarian, looking into her eyes. “What? No! It can’t be!” She placed her hands on his face too, as her eyes filled with tears.

“I feel that it is, Dumbledore is here, and it is time for me to face him. I need to protect you in the chance that I lose. I can’t leave you alone.” He said quietly.

“What about Mama?”

“Your mother will be arrested along with me if we lose, I trust no one to care for you and they will arrest you as well. I can’t have that. I need you to live and carry on. Carry on with our vision.”

“How?”

“There was a spell I learned during my travels. It will send you far away where you can be safe.” The man pulled the girl down to the roof as rocks from the chimney next to them exploded from a stray spell sent from the street below them.

“I can fight Papa! I want to fight along side you! I can’t leave you!” She cried, the tears finally falling. He kissed her forehead quickly before pulling her forehead back to his.

“You have no choice! I know you’re strong, I taught you, I watched you grow, you are my daughter through and through and I have never been prouder. But this is my fight, this has been coming since before you were born. I want you to promise me, promise me that you will never forget where you come from and the things, I have taught you.” He said.

“But- “

“Promise me!”

“I promise!” She cried out.

“Tell me what we say, Anya. Tell me our words.” The man said firmly.

“A nagyobb jó érdekében” (For the greater good) She whispered and felt him nod against her forehead.

“A nagyobb jó érdekében” (For the greater good) He agreed before pulling away from his beloved daughter.

He pulled the Elder wand from his sleeve and placed it gently to her forehead. Their eyes meet, tears streaming down the girl’s cheeks, and his misting over with them.  
“Szeretlek Papa” (I love you Papa)

“Én is szeretlek, kedvesem szívem” (I love you too, my dearest heart)

A bright white light grew from his wand and surrounded the girl before it covered her completely and when it dimmed, the girl it had previously clung to had vanished. The man threw his head back and looked at the darkening sky, his eyes showed the heartbreak he was feeling and the despair before they filled with a determined glint. He then vanished with a loud pop, leaving nothing in his place.

Seconds later he reappeared in front of a middle-aged man, who was dressed smartly in a grey suit. “Albus” The blonde man greeted coldly.

“Gellert, I believe the time has come my old friend. You must end these atrocious acts against the Muggles.” Albus said has he stepped forward.  
“It has all been for the greater good Albus, don’t you remember? Why should we live in secrecy? Their arrogance has been shown time and time again to only cause destruction and havoc to the world! Its time for wizards to step out of the gutters and take their rightful place!” Gellert tried to remind the other man of their ideas as young men, in a time before they were enemies.

“No, Gellert. We must live in a world where we love the Muggles, but we have to stay hidden to protect the balance of the world.”  
“There is no swaying you, very well. Its time for you to face defeat Albus.” Gellert drew his wand, and so did Albus.  
The greatest duel in wizarding history took place that day. All those who were witness would never forget the sheer power that was shared between the two men. It seemed as if it would never end, until finally, Gellert was disarmed and brought to his knees. Immediately, aurors swarmed him and placed him in restraints as Albus picked up Gellert’s wand.

As the aurors escorted Gellert away, he called out to his old friend-now enemy. “Take care of her Albus! Take care of my Anastasia!” Albus looked at the man with pity and understanding. “I swear” He vowed as a final act of friendship between to two.

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A flash of white light and the crack of thunder shook the ground as a small figured dropped to the wet grass. A young girl tumbled off her feet, her hair in a tangled mess around her head and her red coat was soaked with mud. Her black boots were in a puddle and she groaned before sitting up and taking in her surroundings.  
It was dark, raining and all-around miserable outside, a manifestation of the way the girl felt inside he heart. She slammed her hand on the wet ground before yelling in frustration and pain, realizing that her father was not around and that she had no idea where she was. She was completely alone. She cried in the rain for a few moments, her chest heaving with her sobs.

Eventually her cries slowed, and she stood up, looking up the hill she had landed at the bottom of. She could see a castle right over the hill, lights illuminating its thousands of windows. There was the unmistakable feeling of magic in the air, and it seemed to hum under the ground she stood on. She knew where she was from the descriptions her father had told her about. “Hogwarts” she whispered to no one, before narrowing her eyes and making her way up the muddy hill. She slipped and lost her footing multiple times, before finally making it to the top. As she neared the castle doors, they opened to show two figures standing behind it.

One of the people was an older woman with long robes and a large hat placed over her dark but greying hair. She had a stern look of her face and her wand was drawn in front of her, her body tense with the possible threat the girl walking towards them may have carried. The other figure was odd. He was an old man with a long white beard that went as low has his waist. He was dressed in some of the strangest robes she had ever seen. They were a pastel blue, and he had a thin silver rope tied around his waist in a makeshift belt. He had half-moon glasses perched on his nose. He stood in a stance that screamed of his power and which made the girl narrow her eyes and clutch her own wand tighter in her cold fist.

She stopped 15 feet away from the pair, not daring to take another step before knowing they meant her no harm. “What brings you to Hogwarts child? I’m afraid the school year has yet to begin” The old man said gently, but a hit of a threatening tone to his voice.

“My name is Anastasia and I need help.” She said in a thick eastern European accent. The old man’s face changed to show surprise before he took steps out into the rain and towards her. She took a few steps back and raised her wand in defense.

He stopped and placed his hands in the air. “I mean you no harm Anastasia. I can help you. Hogwarts is a safe place for young witches like yourself. I know why you are here. Come to my office and I will explain everything.” She narrowed her blue eyes as she stared at the man, considering her options. She glanced at the older woman, who was glancing between the two with confusion and slight hesitation. Anya nodded her head and slowly lowered her wand to her side, but not putting it away.

She took slow steps towards the man who smiled at her gently and placed a soft hand to her shoulder, leading her inside the castle. “Come, we shall go to my office.” The three walked through the stone halls, their footsteps echoing. Anya took in all the portraits around her. They pointed and whispered to each other, no doubt gossiping about her. Hogwarts was much grander than she expected it to be. Of course, she had never attended a wizarding school, so she had nothing to compare it too. Her father had taught her everything she knew, not to mention she was the daughter of a revolutionary that every government in the wizarding world was after. His daughter going to school was never an option, not that she minded. Her father was all she needed growing up.

They arrived at a statue of a gargoyle. “Lemon Drops” The old man said, causing the statue to turn and reveal a set of curved stairs. The old man led the way, Anya behind him and the older woman was last in line. The office at the top of the stairs was bright and filled with hundreds of trinkets and books of all subjects. She stared at the room with a hidden sense of awe, it reminded her of her father’s study.

The old man took a seat at his desk and interlocked his fingers in front of him. “Please take a seat Miss. Grindelwald.” He said gently, his blue eyes twinkling. Anya had her wand drawn and pointed at him, less then a second of him finishing his sentence. The old woman gasped and raised her wand at the young girl in retaliation, ready to defend the older gentleman at the desk.

“Now, now. There is no need for wands. Minerva, if you would be so kind”

“But Albus- “Minerva said

“We need to make our young guest feel welcome and having your wand pointed at her will not help” He said with a small smile.

“How do you know my surname?” Anya demanded. “I know many things my dear.”

“Tell me! Who are you?”

“I promised your father I would look after you. I believe that is why he sent you here to Hogwarts.”

Before she could ask another question, she saw a very familiar wand sitting on the old man’s desk. Her eyes grew enraged and anger spilled from her body.

“HOW DARE YOU! How dare you steal my father’s wand!? Why do you have it?!” She hissed.

The old man looked at the old woman with a concerned look, before looking back at the enraged teenager before him.“I gained the Elder Wand after defeating Gellert in a duel.” He answered, carefully.

“You defeated my father? Ha! What a joke! How could an old man like you defeat the great Gellert Grindelwald?!” She sneered before shooting a nonverbal spell at the man. He simply swatted the spell and it vanished. He flicked his hand out and she was thrown back into the seat behind her, her arms stuck to the armrests. She struggled before realizing it was useless and turned to glare at the man.

“My name is Albus Dumbledore.” He said like it was supposed to explain everything. She stared at him with hate in her eyes.

“And?” She spat.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at her curiously. “Do you know what happened to your father?” He asked.

“We were fighting aurors in Paris, he took me to a rooftop and performed a spell that sent me here. I would like to return to him as soon as possible.” She demanded.

His eyes turned sad, and for a second it stirred fear in her heart, a feeling of dread filling her with that look. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. Your father is locked away in prison and is not allowed visitors.”

“Prison? I was just with him 20 minutes ago!”

He sighed and shook his head gently. “Grindelwald has been in prison for over 50 years.”

Anya froze in the chair under her. Her blood had run cold and her heart clenched in agony. “50 years? No! You’re lying to me! Take me to Papa!” She cried.

“I would not lie to you Miss. Grindelwald. I defeated your father in battle 50 years ago in Paris which resulted in his imprisonment.”

“How could you?!”

“He was a threat to the wizarding world and muggle world combined. He committed atrocious acts against Muggles, and he would have continued if I hadn’t put an end to it.” Albus explained.

“Everything he did was for the greater good!” She argued in full support of her father. Albus sighed, not surprised that Grindelwald had drilled his ideologies into his daughter.

“He committed numerous crimes and he has been sentenced according to them; he will spend the rest of his life in prison.” Minerva said, causing the distressed witch to send a hateful glare at her. Before Anya could retort, Albus held his hand up causing the girl to look back at him. “What’s done is done, Miss. Grindelwald. His reign has ended, now it’s a new era with new threats.”

She sat and stared at the ground, going through everything Dumbledore had told her. ’50 years? How could she have been sent 50 years in the future? What is she going to do? What of Mother?’ “If what you say is true, then what am I to do? When I woke up this morning it was July 1945, and now you are telling me its been 50 years since then? Can you send me back?” She asked.

Dumbledore shook his head, “No, I cannot send you back. Your father asked me to keep you safe and he sent you here for that reason. Gellert and I may have been enemies at the end but in respect to the friendship we had before, I swore I would protect you.”

“What happened to my Mother?” She asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“Who was your mother?” Minerva asked.

“Vinda Rosier”

“I’m afraid she was killed during the final battle between the aurors and Grindelwald’s followers.” Dumbledore answered softly. The girl bowed her head and forced the tears not to fall. “How old are you Anastasia?” Dumbledore asked softly.

“I turned 15 in February.”

“You will need to learn how to fit into this new era. You will be enrolled as a fifth-year Hogwarts student. Tonight, I will take you to a place where I know you will be safe; however, your name must be kept a secret.” Dumbledore said releasing the girl from the spell holding her to the chair.

“Why can’t I keep my name?” She asked insulted, she was proud of the name she shared with her father.

“The name Grindelwald is infamous and I’m afraid it was cause unwanted attention. For now, you will go by your mother’s name; Rosier.” Anya begrudgingly accepted before standing.

“So, where’s this place that is so safe for me?” She asked snidely.

“We will floo to Grimmauld place. It’s the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix” Dumbledore walked to the large fireplace behind his desk before holding the pot of floo powder out to the girl. She took a handful and looked at the man who also grabbed a handful. He stepped into the fire and clearly called out. “Number 12 Grimmauld Place!” He threw down the powder and was engulfed in green flames before he was gone from sight.  
Anya looked at the powder in her hand before looking back at Minerva. The old woman nodded stiffly at the girl who turned back and stepped into the fireplace.

“Number 12 Grimmauld place!”

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I hope you guys liked it! Let me know your thoughts and feeling about it in the reviews. Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Harry Potter, only Anastasia. This is a longer chapter then the first, and I like it much better. Its not so rushed and it introduces the characters we all know and love. I hope you all enjoy! Slight changes have been made in Chapter 1 and this chapter.**

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Anya stepped out of the fireplace and into a cramped room. It was dark, dingy, and the smell of mildew and dust wafted into her nose and made her want to leave immediately. She scrunched up her small nose as she examined the people filling space. Dumbledore was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by a few dozen people. Most of them had eye-catching red hair, but there were a few with different shades of hair. 

Almost at once most of them had turned to look at the newcomer and pulled their wands out at the unfamiliar face that had entered their headquarters. She whipped her wand out as well and faced them all with a powerful glare, daring them to attack her. “Who are you and how did you get here?!” One of the men with dark hair asked harshly, causing the girl to glance at him.

“I brought her here Sirius, she is my guest.” Dumbledore said and it caused the strangers to slowly lower their wands but not looking away from the stranger. She lowered her wand as well, slipping it back into the holster she had strapped to her left forearm. She clasped her hands behind her back and stood with her feet slightly apart, planted firmly on the floor, her body ready to react if they changed their minds and drew their wands again. She took her time to examine the people in the room.

There was a short middle-aged woman with bright red hair that had a young teenage girl tucked behind her. She had a very motherly look to her, with the apron tied over her dress. She looked more like a mother then Anya’s mother ever had. Vinda had always made sure she looked perfect, not a hair out of place. She never looked as maternal as the red haired woman standing In front of her. The man next to her was towering over her and had a long face and red hair as well. _‘They must be the parents of all the red-headed children’_ she thought.

There were a set of red-haired twins that towered over her 5’3 stature, they had a mischievous look in their eye, one that she wasn’t sure she liked. The other red-haired boy was tall, lanky and a bit dim-looking. He looked to be around her age.

Before she could focus on the two dark haired men, Dumbledore called out to her. “Miss. Anastasia, I think we should go into the kitchen to explain to the Order who you are.” She nodded and followed the man into the kitchen where everyone else filled in and took seats around the table.

She leaned against the wall close to the door and eyed everyone in the room, still tense and prepared to spring into action if any of them made a move to attack her. She was in a prime spot to escape the room quickly if needed. The teenagers she had seen in the sitting room had followed the adults into the kitchen before the older red-haired woman shooed them out. “Off to bed children, this is an Order matter.”

“But Mum! We want to stay!” The lanky boy whined.

“No! This is nothing for children to be apart of! Now go!” She waved her hands, motioning for them to go. The teenagers filled out, complaining loudly as they went.

Once their footsteps were heard going into what she assumed was their rooms she was when she turned her attention back to the adults. “Why don’t you have a seat? Its late and this may be a long conversation.” Dumbledore said with a small smile as he held a hand out to an empty seat between him and a man with light brown hair and scars on his face. She hesitated before nodding and taking the seat.

“Now, I know it’s a surprise to all of you that I have brought someone new, but this matter is of importance. Miss. Anastasia will be staying here at Headquarters because I promised her father a long time ago that I would protect her and now the time has come for me to fulfill that promise. She will be attending Hogwarts in September as a fifth-year. She is unfamiliar with current events going on and we need to fill her in because I believe she will be great help in our efforts.” Dumbledore explained.

She raised a delicate blonde eyebrow at his words. ‘ _Their efforts? Papa sent her away from his war where she belonged and sent her to another one. One they knew nothing about. Perhaps her Papa had a vision about this time. I never agreed to fight, especially when I have no idea what they are fighting. They could be promoting stronger secrecy laws to restrict wizards for all she knew’_

“Why is she so important Dumbledore? Surely the Order has more important things to deal with.” A dark man with greasy black hair asked from across the table. His nose was large and hooked, and his eyes were the color of unpolished obsidian.

“If she is anything like her father then I believe she is a very powerful witch. Her remaining family are unable to take care of her, so it has been entrusted to me.”

“Who’s her father Dumbledore?” The man at the head of the table asked, the one Dumbledore had called Sirius, she believed. Anya finally looked at the man, he had black hair the hung in slight waves to his chin. He had neat facial hair and was dressed in a velvet, burgundy jacket. He seemed on the skinny side and his fingers were covered in old and warped looking tattoos. He was handsome but far to old for her tastes. Dumbledore made eye contact with all those in the room before looking at the stoic girl beside him.

“She has been sent here from 1945. Her father is Gellert Grindelwald.”

Silence was the old man’s response to his statement as his words sunk into those around the table. Once it seemed to have set in, a couple of them erupted in anger and confusion.

“Grindelwald?”

“He had a kid?!”

“How is she here?”

“Why is she so young?”

“She is probably just like him”

“How can you trust her Dumbledore!?”

All their yelling voices echoed in Anya’s head and she clenched her fist in annoyance. The loudness was quickly giving her a headache. Before she could defend herself, Dumbledore raised his hand, quieting them all. “She could be a great asset to the Order when she comes of age. Her parentage does not define who she is.”

“Does Voldemort know about her?” The scarred man asked next her. She turned her blue eyes onto him.

“What’s a Voldemort?” She asked simply, causing them all to look at her in astonishment and suspicion.

“Do you honestly expect us to believe you don’t know who Voldemort is?” A man with a crazy false eye demanded.

“If you would have been listening, I’m from 1945. There was none of this Voldemort nonsense then, and if there was, Papa had more important matters to be focused on” She said with a dismissive wave of her hand, looking away from the crazy man.

“How can you be from 1945 and look like you are what? 15? 16?” Sirius asked with a slight concerned look on his face.

She shrugged her shoulders “Papa mentioned it was a spell he learned while traveling. It was a bright white light and next thing I know, I’m here.”

“It will be important to keep her identity secret. We cannot allow the Ministry to know that Grindelwald’s daughter is alive and with us. As far as they know, she went missing after her father’s arrest in the 40s. She will go by her mother’s name of Rosier. Now, I think introductions are in order before we all make off to bed. Its been a long day.” Dumbledore said with a smile.

He started with the man next to Anya, “Anastasia, this is Remus Lupin. He was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor two years ago at Hogwarts.” The man nodded his head politely at her. She took her time to examine his scars and his shabby robes. He sat slightly hunched over and he had dark purple bags under his brown eyes. He looked tired and pale, it gave her the feeling he was going to fall asleep right there at the table.

“Next to him is Sirius Black, he is the owner of the house we are in.” The black-haired man smirked at her when she made eye-contact.

“Ah, the Most Nobel and Ancient House of Black, I assume? Papa had Black followers I believe. They were some of our most loyal ones.” She mentioned and noticed how his face darkened slightly.

He continued to go down the table; “Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, they are aurors.” The man with the crazy eye and thin blonde hair sneered and she did in return, recognizing the name Moody. The family often produced famous aurors, some of whom were after her father from what she remembered. The woman introduced as Tonks had pretty purple hair and she gave Anya a smile and a wink.

“That’s Severus Snape, he is the potions professor at Hogwarts.” Dumbledore pointed to the dark looking man from before. Their eyes met and he narrowed them when he saw the haughty look in her bright blue eyes.

“Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Bill Weasley,” he pointed to three of the redheads she had seen earlier.

“Mundungus Fletcher, Dedalus Diggle, Kingsly Shacklebolt, and Emmeline Vance. You met Professor Minerva McGonagall tonight in my office. There are others but they are on missions or were not able to attend the meeting tonight.”

Dumbledore had pointed at each person as he had said their names. He clapped his hands and smiled at everyone, seeming to ignore the tension. “I believe it is off to bed for all of us. I know it has been a tiring day for Miss. Grindelwald here.” Dumbledore said as he stood. Before he could walk out of the room, Anya stopped him.

“I don’t believe we are finished Dumbledore. You’ve mentioned multiple times about me joining your side. However, I am not informed on this matter. I won’t fight blindly for a cause I know nothing about.” She said without looking at him.

“It would be wise to join us, we are fighting against a very dark wizard. One that threatens the entire Wizarding World as we know it.” Dumbledore said. She snorted in an unlady-like manner.

“Define dark wizard, Dumbledore. My father was called a dark wizard by many, but he had noble aspirations to free witches and wizards from the chains of secrecy. I fought beside him, does that make me dark as well? I’m assuming this ‘dark wizard’ is inferior to my father, so I don’t feel the same pressing fear as you all do.”

Everyone was looking at each other and looking at her with untrusting eyes. She continued her air of nonchalance but was fully aware of the tension filling with room. It was almost palpable how thick the mood was. Clearly, she struck a sore spot.

“Very well, Miss. Grindelwald. Tomorrow there will be another Order meeting and you will be fully informed then on the dangers the world is facing. It is a different time and a different war then the one you grew up in.” Dumbledore said in a final tone before turning to the red-haired woman. “Molly, I trust her to your care. And one last thing, remember to go by Rosier when introducing yourself to the others.” He walked out and back into the sitting room.

She heard the fire roar and then go silent. Nobody moved for a few seconds before the motherly red-haired woman walked to her side. “Come along dear. Let’s get you up to a room. I believe Ginny will have some pajamas for you to wear tonight. Tomorrow we can go to Diagon Alley and get you some new clothes.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Anya said politely with the charming smile she had inherited from her father. She followed Mrs. Weasley upstairs and into a room that was occupied with all the red-haired children. “I thought I sent you all to bed!” Mrs. Weasley planted her hands on her large hips and glared at her children.

“We were just talking Mum, we are curious about the girl Dumbledore arrived with.” The girl sitting on the bed closet to the door said.

“It late! You can all get acquainted tomorrow. Ginny, do you have spare pajamas you can let Anastasia here use? I told her we would take her shopping tomorrow.” Molly asked her daughter.

“I’m sure I’ve got some laying around Mum. Don’t worry.” Ginny responded, getting off the bed and walking to a long black dresser. Molly turned to Anya and tsked. “You will be sharing a room with Ginny dear. Tomorrow will be a long day and you need your rest. Now, go take a bath and then straight to bed.” She said in a light strict tone before bustling back downstairs.

Anya stared at her back for a second before turned to the red-haired girl. She was tall and had a thin and athletic build; her red hair was straight and went below her shoulders. She had a spattering of freckles across her pale cheeks. She was decently pretty, and she didn’t give off any threatening vibes which Anya felt relieved about.

Ginny walked to the blonde and held her handout with a smile. “I’m sure you know, but my name is Ginny”

Anya took her hand and gave it a firm shake. “Anastasia Rosier, but you may call me Anya.”

“Rosier?” Ginny asked, her eyebrows creasing and handing the clothes over to Anya. The blonde nodded before looking around the room.

It was gloomy and old, just like the sitting room and kitchen had been. Everything was a shade of black, grey, and silver, with some touches of green. This room had the same old smell as the whole house seemed to have. There were two double beds in the room, both with tall Victorian looking canopies hanging over the headboards. There was a single window with a black sitting chair under it. There was a set of drawers that Ginny had pulled the clothes out of, and a taller wardrobe in the corner.

“Would you be kind enough to show me where the washroom is? I would like to bathe before I go to bed.” Anya asked, looking back at the girl.

“Of course!” Ginny said and started walking out into the hallway. They passed a door on their right and then stopped at the next one. “Its right in here, the room next to ours is where Ron is staying and then Fred and George are on the next floor. They are my brothers and I’m sure you will meet them tomorrow. Fred and George are pranksters though so be careful. Ill be in the room if you need me.” Ginny said before walking away and back into the bedroom they would be sharing.

Anya walked into the black and grey bathroom and shut the door behind her. She rolled her eyes at the color scheme. She enjoyed the color black, but this house was just too much. She stripped off her clothes before looking at herself in the mirror.

She looked the same as she did when she woke up this morning, but she felt so much different. She felt empty, numb and as much as she hated to admit it, afraid. She ran a hand through her tangled locks, her fingers catching in knots, causing her to wince at the sharp pain in her scalp. Her face was dirty, and she had a couple cuts. She placed her wand gently to her face and the cut slowly drifted back together, leaving smooth skin once again.

She walked into the shower and the warm water was soothing on her tired body. She had a couple bruises on her body that she was sure were from ricocheting spells and the debris that were being thrown around her back in Paris. The idea of Paris made her stop and her body went cold.

She had been born in her father’s stronghold in Austria, but she spent a lot of her childhood in France and various other countries. Her mother had originally been from France and her father had one of his largest following there, closely following behind Russia and his native country of Austria-Hungry, before it had been separated. She would never return to her father’s numerous homes and hideouts. His libraries were probably ransacked and destroyed, same with her personal belongings. Everything she once knew had been ripped away from her and she was feeling the emptiness it brought.

Her father was in prison, never to leave. He would be over 100 by now and he had spent so many years alone, so many years without her. He was her world, her mentor, her everything. She had never been away from her father for a more then a day. He had always kept her at his side. When she was too young to attend his rallies, he would make sure she knew he would be right back, and she would be locked in her room with one follower or another. She was often given to the younger women that followed him, and they were her caretakers when he couldn’t be. Her heart lurched painfully, wanting nothing more then to be with her father again.

She allowed the tears to fall and mix with the stream of water coming from the shower head. She covered her mouth to silence her sobs and she held a hand to her stomach; her shoulders were jerking with the force of her cries. When she felt the water getting cold, she took a deep breath and forced the tears to leave her eyes and stepped out of the shower.

The first thing she put on after drying off was the silver chain necklace that had been her father’s. It was a long simple chain and at the end of it held the symbol for the Deathly Hallows. He had given it to her on her 15th birthday and now it was the last thing she had of his. She put on the orange cotton pants Ginny had given her. They were very snug on her thighs and hips, but it would be manageable until she was able to get her own. The tank top fit alright as well but was also slightly snug around her breasts.

She grabbed her dirty clothes in a pile and silently walked back to the bedroom she would be staying in. The room was dark, and Ginny was fast asleep in her bed. Anya quietly walked to the empty bed and crawled into the scratchy cotton sheets. She huffed knowing she would never be able to sleep like this. She grabbed her wand from where she placed it under her pillow and tapped the bed underneath her once, the pillows and sheets turning into a soft, silky material that she was more familiar with.

She rolled over to her stomach, burying her face into the pillow under her. Her wand was still in her grasp as she slid her arms under the pillow. She laid in the darkness before her body finally gave in to the sleep it desperately wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own Harry Potter; I own only Anastasia. This isn’t going to be a super exciting chapter, its mostly just to kind of build on Anya getting used to being around the Weasleys and her shopping. We meet Hermione in the next chapter!

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Anya’s eyes felt heavy with sleep as they reluctantly opened to greet the sunlight streaming through the moth-eaten curtains. She huffed and turned her head away from the annoying light, burying her face into the silk pillow.

A rustling sound next to her caused her to grab her wand under her pillow and sit up straight in the bed. She quickly spotted the red-haired girl she met last night that was looking at her with an awkward smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you” Ginny apologized while pulling on her socks.

“It’s fine” Anya ran a hand roughly through her hair, winching when her fingers snagged on a tangle. Ginny’s small giggle caused her to send the younger girl a glare.

“You can use my hairbrush if you like. Mum said we were going to Diagon Alley after breakfast so you will be able to get one then along with some clothes.” Ginny said.

“Diagon Alley?” Anya racked her brain trying to remember if she knew the location.

“It’s where witched and wizards go to buy magical items and whatnot. It’s an amazing place! I can’t believe you’ve never heard of it.” Ginny said with a smile.

“I didn’t grow up here in England. I spent most of my life in France.” Anya quickly pulled off the pjs, not worried about Ginny seeing her in her underwear. “Did you go to Beauxbatons? You don’t sound French.”

“No” Anya asked curtly, ignoring the comment about her accent. She pulled on the clothes she had worn the night before. Her shirt and pants were stiff with sweat and the random splatters of mud and a red substance to be what she believed was blood. She scowled and ran her hand over to clothes, the stains and stiffness fading away.

She turned to grab her boots when she saw Ginny looking at her with surprise. She sighed, knowing the girl would probably annoy her with more questions. She rolled her eyes and sat down on the bed to pull on her boots. They were also dirty she thought as she waved a hand carelessly and those cleaned themselves as well.

“You can do wandless magic?!” Ginny exclaimed in excitement. Anya smirked briefly before sitting upright and staring at the girl proudly.

“Of course, I’ve been taught by the best. Now, before you ask me more questions, can we walk down to breakfast? I’m famished.” Anya stood up and walked towards the door, Ginny following her out the faded black door.

Ginny watched the new girl as she walked in front of her. Anya’s long hair swished against her lower back. Her posture was straighter than any teenage girl Ginny had ever seen. Her steps were confident, and her head was raised high, looking at the various paintings that lined the dingy stairway. She had a confident air that bordered arrogant and egotistical. She walked liked she owned the place, even though she had been there less than 24 hours.

They quickly made it to the bottom of the stairs, multiple voices echoing from the kitchen to their left. Anya waited for Ginny to fully come to a stop at the bottom of the stairs before allowing the red head to enter first. Anya entered the room with only the slightest hesitance. She had her arms bent at the elbows, while her hands were clasped behind her back, standing the way her father had taught her to. The familiar stance brought her comfort and she hardened her eyes when she saw the room was filled with people.

Laughter was echoing in the room, but it quickly quieted when everyone caught sight of the blonde. Their eyes shot to her form, the adults shot each other looks the young-lings didn’t understand, while the red headed twins shared a smirk with each other.

Anya raised a brow challengingly at the now silent group as she spoke. “Please, don’t stop on my account.” She raised her hand in front of her easily and walked to the empty seat next to Lupin. He gave her a brief nod and a polite good morning that she returned. He turned back to his conversation with Sirius when Mrs. Weasley came bustling over to the girl.

“How did you sleep? I’m glad you could join us for breakfast, who knows when you last ate! Now, eat up before we leave for Diagon Alley.” Mrs. Weasley waved a wand and food began to pile onto the girl’s plate.

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. It looks delicious.” Anya thanked, never one to forget her manners. Her parents had always been a stickler for manners. Her father always told her it was one of the quickest ways of getting people to respect her, outside of using fear. Her mother said it was a characteristic that a lady of her standing needed to possess. Mrs. Weasley gave the girl a small smile before turning back to the other end of the table. Anya ate in silence, listening to the mundane conversations taking place around her.

She chewed on a piece of bacon, when her eyes caught the subtle movement in her cup of tea. Her chewing slowed as she narrowed her eyes, seeing the liquid beginning to boil. She shot a glance down the table where the red-haired children sat to see the twin boys smirking in her direction. She raised a brow at them before turning to her cup and taping the rim twice, causing the bubbles to slow to a stop. She lowered her hands to her lap, acting as if she was wiping them off on the napkin she had on her lap. She quickly pulled her wand out of her sleeve and gave it a wave under the table before putting it away once more.

She grabbed her fork again to take a bite of her eggs before turning back to the boys. “Bloody Hell! What’s going on with your hair?!” The gangling red-haired boy said pointing at the twins with his fork.

The twins looked at each other, seeing their hair was gradually turning into a bright turquoise.

“Why George, I think that color matches your eyes.”

“I was just thinking the same as you Fred.”

The two cracked grins and turned to the blonde who was smirking at them with glittering eyes.

“You foiled our prank- “Fred said.

“-just to play your own” George said.

“Well done!” The two finished in unison.

Anya shrugged innocently, “I have no idea what you’re implying. I’m enjoying my breakfast in peace.”

“What’s your name?” They asked in unison. “Anastasia Rosier, but you may call me Anya. And you are?” She responded.

“I’m Fred, that’s George. Ron’s the one stuffing his face over here” The Fred said with a grin. “Hey!” Ron said before shoveling eggs into his mouth.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you” She said with a nod. They turned back to each other, no doubt trying to plan a prank towards her since she had spoiled their last one.

The roar of the fire in the next room caused Anya to glance at the door, feeling a powerful presence now in the house. A slight sneer graced her lips when she recognized the feel. ‘Dumbledore’ She thought bitterly, quickly letting her face go blank before anyone took note of her disdainful look.

The old man entered the kitchen with grace no one his age should have. He had on pastel pink robes this time, with a long matching hat. His eyes were sparkling, and a gentle smile was on his face. “Dumbledore! Are you here to join us for breakfast? We have plenty to go around.” Mrs. Weasley said.

“Oh no Molly, I’m just here for a moment. I wish to have a word with Miss. Rosier if I could” Dumbledore looked expectantly at Anya’s blank face. The girl nodded and folded her napkin in half before gracefully standing from the table to follow the old man into the sitting room.

She said nothing when they came to a stop, allowing Dumbledore to lead the conversation. She wanted to speak to him as less as possible, still bitter after learning he was the one to put her father behind bars. “I took the liberty of going to Gringotts for you. I explained the situation to the goblins, and they are in the works of reopening your father’s vaults for you.”

“They weren’t emptied?” She asked.

“No, the goblins knew you were alive, and you were listed on the name for the vaults to be passed to. The Ministry was unable to enter or empty your father’s vaults.” Dumbledore informed the girl brightly. She nodded, relief flooding through her body at knowing she would not be left penniless in this strange time she had been sent to.

Her father may not have been the richest, but he was able to gain a very comfortable amount of wealth throughout his campaigns and youth. Many wealthy wizarding families donated to his cause, and he was able to acquire many treasures and artifacts through his travels. His parents had left him quite a large sum as well after they passed, with him being their only child. Her mother had also placed a large amount of gold into the vault for Anya’s use if she remembered correctly.

“I took the liberty of obtaining some money for you to use for your shopping today. I thought it would be helpful in preventing the Weasley children from being suspicious of your parentage if you all didn’t have to make a trip to Gringotts.” Dumbledore said handing over a heavy cloth bag.

She graciously took the item before placing it into her jacket pocket. She nodded and glanced at his blue eyes, ones that held a sparkle she couldn’t identify.

“You won’t need to worry about any school stuff during this trip. Those letters will be sent out later in the summer.” Dumbledore said.

“Why do I need to attend your school? Papa taught me everything I need to know.” Anya asked coldly. She could feel the slight fear curling in her chest at the thought of being thrown into an unknown environment. She never grew up around any other children. She could lead an army if needed but how would she interact with other teenagers? She was far different from any other 15-year-old girl and she didn’t want to bring attention to that aspect.

“You need to blend in. It would be strange for a 15-year-old to not attend school, my dear. Besides, one can never learn to much, and surrounding yourself with others your age will be good for you.” Dumbledore said with a grin and a clap of his hands.

“Now, I must be off. I have matters to attend to. Good-day Miss. Rosier” He said and walked back into the fireplace throwing down Floo powder.

“Dumbledore’s office. Hogwarts.” He said being engulfed in those familiar green flames.

She gave a nasty look to the fireplace the Headmaster had left from before walking back into the kitchen to rejoin the others.

When she walked back in the table was cleaning itself of dishes. They dumped the food in the trash and floated to the sink where they were being washed by an enchanted brush.

“We are going to be traveling by Floo. Are you ready to go dear?” Mrs. Weasley said smiling brightly.

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley” Anya said politely.

“Very good! Ginny is going to going with us. I figured it would be nice for us girls to spend the day together” Mrs. Weasley led the two girls to the living room, and they all took a handful of floo powder.

Mrs. Weasley gave Mr. Weasley a quick kiss “We will be back before supper,” She stepped into the fireplace and threw down the power shouting, “Diagon Alley!”

After Mrs. Weasley vanished, Ginny copied her mother and disappeared in green flames as well, Anya following swiftly behind.

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They had arrived in the Leaky Cauldron from the Floo. Mrs. Weasley led them to a back room before tapping on some bricks on the wall. The bricks shifted and crumbled, reveling a bright street that was lines with shops. Numerous people were walking the street, going about their shopping.

Anya looked around with bright eyes, trying to hide her amazement. She had never been to Diagon Alley before. Her father never traveled to England with her when she was growing up. She always thought it was because he didn’t have a large influence on the country compared to the continent.

“Let’s go to Madam Malkin’s first. It’s the best place to get clothes here” The trio walked to a purple store with mannequins in the windows. They walked into the floral smelling shop, an older woman greeting them enthusiastically. “Good morning! How can I help you ladies today?” The older woman greeted them.

“Good morning Madam Malkin! We are here to buy Anya some clothes. She has moved here but doesn’t have any luggage with her.” Mrs. Weasley explained to the short lady dressed in mauve.

“Not a problem!” Madam Malkin walked to Anya and grabbed her hands, holding them to her sides. Madam Malkin looked over Anya’s figure, muttering to herself. “You are quite a curvy girl! Many girls would be jealous! I know I certainly am! Very beautiful too, I believe you will look best in lighter tones. These dark colors of yours only wash out your skin” Madam Malkin laughed teasingly. Anya’s cheeks blushed a faint pink.

Her mother had always talked about Anya having a good figure, but it was different hearing it from a stranger. She felt uncomfortable with her clothes being mentioned as well. Black had always been one of her favorite colors to wear, she tried to emulate her father’s style but with a more feminine touch.

Madam Malkin let go of Anya’s hands and led her over to where more casual clothing racks were located. “Let me know if you need any help dear!” The kind lady walked away with a smile. Anya turned to the racks and started looking through everything.

There were many shirts with short sleeves and the midriff of them were quite short as well. The pants were an odd rough blue material. There were so many bright colors and designs, Anya felt out of place. She was used to suit ensembles; waistcoats, dress pants, button ups, vests and the occasional blouse and skirt. These clothes were…strange.

“Mrs. Weasley, are there clothes that are more…sophisticated? I’ve never worn clothes likes these. They all seem so...casual.” Anya asked with a hint of distaste.

“Let’s ask Madam Malkin”

Mrs. Weasley called for the shop owner and told her about Anya’s plight. “I’ll have some button ups and dress pants around here. You wear waistcoats my dear? Those are usually more of a men’s clothing item. And your jacket is a smidge out of style dearie.”

“I prefer a more antique look.” Anya said simply.

Madam Malkin nodded before walking over to a rack with blouses and button ups. She started pulling out pinks and purples before Anya stopped her. “I would like to stick with simple colors. Black and white would be best, blue and red are acceptable as well.”

Madam Malkin huffed a bit before pulling out some white and black button ups, and few other various items. She handed them over to Anya and made a motion to lead her to the dressing rooms.

“Try these on and see what you think. We can go from there.” Madam Malkin closed the dressing room door behind her and left Anya alone. Anya made quick work of the clothes.

After trying on the garments, she picked out four simple white button ups. Four black ones, and two red ones. They were all neatly fitted to her shape and were modestly complimenting. She picked out a basic black waistcoat with silver buttons. Along with a grey one with black buttons. She picked out five pairs of black pants that were tighter in style then what she was used to, but she liked how they flattered her hips and rear-end. She chose two pairs of the rough blue material pants, both of which flared out gradually at the knees.

She had a few simple tops that were more towards the current fashion. She picked out some shoes, mostly sticking with boots. She had found a pair of black combat boots, a pair of black converses along with a white pair. She had also found flat thigh high black boots that she knew were going to be her favorite.

She had found three new coats as well. One was a leather jacket that zipped at a slight angle starting at her left shoulder. She found another coat that was a bit more elegantly detailed then the other two. It was black with a stiff collar. It had golden accent and golden leafy embroidery that rested on the chest and wrists. The shoulders had gold line straps that met buttons closer to the neck. The ends of the sleeves were lined in gold. The collar had gold around the edges, with the leafy pattern sewn into the center. It was beautiful and something she could easily see her mother wanting her to wear.

She had also found a tailcoat that was more her style. It was long, reaching the back of her knees. It had a waist coat built into the front where it could be clasped by silver buttons. The collar was stiff and reached the center of her neck. There were nine buttons that lines each side for decoration. It made her heart ache because it reminded her of a jacket her father wore in a picture, she had seen of him as a young man.

She had gotten many undergarments as well, slightly fascinated with all the different shapes and cuts of the bras and panties they had.

When they left Madam Malkin’s, it was late afternoon and the girls were starving. “Mum, can we go back? I’m starved! Plus, Hermione is coming tonight, and I don’t want to miss her!” Ginny said.

“Yes, yes, we can head back. We will have to come back in a few weeks anyways for all of your school supplies.” Mrs. Weasley led the girls back to the Leaky Cauldron quickly, muttering about what she was going to make for supper, and how the twin had hopefully not caused mayhem while she was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Harry Potter, only Anya. We get to meet Hermione in this chapter! I know the last chapter was boring, that’s why I’m doing a double update this time. I’m going to try and make a schedule of updating at least every other week. I hope you guys enjoy it!**

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When the girls arrived back to Grimmauld Place, the place was lively. Ron was playing a game of wizarding chess with Lupin, and Sirius was cheering Lupin on, while the twins were huddle over a pile of papers in the corner.

“Is this what you have done all day?!” Mrs. Weasley said loudly, placing her hands on her lips, eyeing the males in the room. Lupin and Sirius side-eyed each other, fighting smiles. Ron paled and stammered his response, and the twins hardly bothered to glance up.

“This place desperately needs to be cleaned up! I was hoping you lot would take initiative without me telling you, but I was wrong! Go get ready for supper” She scolded before marching into the kitchen.

Anya and Ginny looked at each other before Ginny broke out into laughter. Anya smirked, shifting the bags in her hands. “Good shopping trip?” Sirius voice broke the laughter.

Anya looked at him for a second before nodding. “I think I managed to get the clothing I needed. There were odd garments that I bought but I am excited to try them. The blue trousers, what did you call them Ginny?” Anya asked looking at the red-haired girl.

“They are jeans, Anya.” Ginny responded with a smile. “Right” Anya nodded before walking up the stairs to put her new clothes away in the dresser. She pulled out a simple white t-shirt, a pair of shorts Ginny had convinced her to buy and her black converses. She walked to the bathroom where she took a quick shower and changed into her new clothes. She admired herself in the mirror, observing the way the clothes made her look. The shorts showed far more skin then she was used to, but she didn’t find herself hating it. They were a relief to wear with the heat that she had experienced shopping. It wasn’t hot like this when she left Paris.

She waved her hand and her hair dried itself quickly. It fell in waves down her back, but she threw it up into a messy ponytail with the new hair ties she had gotten while shopping. She put on the shoes and walked downstairs to join everyone.

The other teens were still in the sitting room, Lupin and Sirius seemed to have walked away. She didn’t really feel like joining the others, so she helped herself into exploring the house. Most of the doors were locked, but she soon found one that wasn’t.

When she opened the door, her eyes widened in shock, before morphing into an excited look. It was a library! Bookshelves lined every inch of the walls, filled to the brim with books. She walked to the closest one and ran her hands along the dusty spines. She saw many titles she was familiar with; some of which she had already read and others that she recognized from her father’s study. Many of them were focused on the dark arts but she was alright with that, sometimes those were the most interesting.

Her father had taught her the dark arts, making sure she had a well-rounded knowledge of magic. Why should she not learn certain magic because others thought it was ‘evil’? Restrictions like that only prevented people from reaching their full potential, and she refused to limit herself. She had to make her father proud and being powerful was one of the best ways to do that.

She grabbed a dark purple book. _Secrets of the Darkest Art_ by Owle Bullock, she remembered this book in her father’s study. It was one that she was supposed to read when her father started her lessons again, but that wasn’t going to happen anymore. She took the book and waved her hand at a green armchair to clean off the dirt before she took a seat.

She started to read the book, intrigued with the knowledge it would provide to her. She had always been an avid-reader and had an inherited thirst for learning. Her father always boasted about how she inherited his intelligence and hunger for knowledge. She didn’t know how long she had been in the library before a voice broke her concentration.

“There you are! We have been looking everywhere for you, Hermione just arrived, and Ginny wants you to meet her. Molly is also finished with supper.” Sirius spoke from the door.

Anya nodded before closing the book and setting it down on the chair, fulling intending to continue her reading after she ate. Sirius eyed the book before paling. “You shouldn’t read the things in here. They are dark and evil, nothing a girl your age should be reading” He scolded in a quite tone.

She raised a blonde eyebrow in his direction. “I’m familiar with the Dark Arts, Black. Papa taught me a large collection of spells, some you would consider good, and others you would consider bad.”

Sirius looked at her with a dark look in his eyes. “You shouldn’t continue that. That’s not good magic to know. It will get you into trouble.”

She scuffed and started walking down the hall with him next to her. “Papa has no discrimination against the different kinds of magic and neither do I. How can I reach my full potential if I completely ignore entire subjects of magic? Some of which can be incredibly useful. Your Order says you are fighting a war, yes? Some of those ‘dark’ spells can save an ally’s life at the expense of an enemy’s. Should you let an ally die just because a spell is labeled as ‘dark’? I don’t think so.” She said, looking at him from the corner of her eyes.

He stayed silent after giving her a sharp look, one that was full of distrust. She rolled her eyes at him before arriving to the sitting room. An unfamiliar girl had joined the group of redheads.

She was taller than Anya by what she guessed was 3 or 4 inches. She had curly brown hair and intelligent, bright brown eyes. She had a thin build, not as curvy as Anya, but curvier than Ginny. She was pretty, Anya thought.

Anya seemed to have caught the girl’s attention when she walked in with Sirius.

“Oh? Hello! My name is Hermione Granger, and you are?” The brunette greeted Anya politely, extending her hand to shake.

Anya took her hand in a firm grip and gave a polite shake. “Anastasia Rosier, but you may call me Anya.”

“Rosier? Aren’t they a French pureblood family? You don’t sound very French; you have more of a German accent. Where are you from?” The girl rambled quickly. Anya looked at her, considering on how to answer the girl’s questions. They were innocent enough and it wouldn’t hurt anyone if she knew where she was born.

“My mother was a Rosier and I took her name. However, I was born in Austria. You are close with the accent, its Hungarian not German.”

“Why do you have a Hungarian accent if your mother was French? Was your father Austrian? Although if you took your mother’s name, I would assume you were closer to her, causing you to have more of a French accent.”

“No, I am closer to my father, he is Hungarian.”

“Oh! I’ve never met someone from Austria or Hungry before! You will have to tell me about your native country. My parents and I visit France often, what part was your mother from?” Hermione spoke quickly.

“Paris” Anya said shortly.

“Paris is such a beautiful city! The Louvre is my favorite place to visit, the artwork is magnificent! Have you been?”

“No”

“You haven’t?! I figured you would have been with your mother being French”

“It’s an attraction for nem varázslatok, they swarm it. I would never visit it” Anya said with disgust.

“Nem varázslatok? What does that mean?” Hermione repeated with terrible pronunciation.

“No magics.” Everyone continued to give her confused looks.

“People with no magic. What do you call them here in England?” Anya said rolling her eyes slightly. Everyone looked at each other for a second. “We call them Muggles”

“Muggles? How…endearing” Anya sneered. Hermione raised her eyebrows, and everyone fidgeted.

“Do you hate Muggles? I hope you don’t share the pureblood supremacy ideals that many do.” Ginny said spitefully from the couch.

“I don’t care about pureblood supremacy. Anyone with magic is equal in my eyes. I also do not hate those you call Muggles. They simply just have another value.” Anya said with an air of superiority.

Hermione took a step backwards and away from Anya, an upset and angry look on her face, but her eyes looked like she was trying to figure out a complicated puzzle. Before another word could be said, Mrs. Weasley called for everyone to come eat. Everyone filed into the kitchen, many of the adults already being in the room, all of who looked familiar from the previous night.

Anya recognized Tonks, Moody, and Shacklebolt who were already sitting around the table. Lupin and Sirius were sitting in the same spots as yesterday. Anya took the empty seat next to Lupin again, taking a small comfort in the man’s non-threating aura. Everyone started to fill their plates after everyone had been seated. Laughter and conversation filled the air around Anya, but she didn’t join in. She was taking the small occasional bite while lost in her thoughts.

“ _What all was she allowed to share? She would be open about her identity if she didn’t fear it being leaked to the Ministry. That’s the last thing she needed right now. No one had seemed to agree with her statement about nem varázslatok either. She needed to get into the habit of calling them Muggles. She would have to be careful around Hermione. She could tell that she was intelligent but there was no way she would be able to figure out her identity just from that small amount of information.”_

Her thoughts were interrupted when everyone started to stand and clear off their plates. She looked down to see she had pretty much finished everything on her plate. She allowed her plate to be sent to the sink and stayed sitting with some of the adults.

“Now, all of you upstairs. There is an Order meeting tonight.” Mrs. Weasley waved her hands to shoo off her children.

“But Mum!” Ron complained

“We are of age!” The twins shouted in unison.

“No! You are still to young! Now go!” Mrs. Weasley said in a tone none of them wanted to argue with. They redhaired boys mumbled on their way out, Ginny and Hermione following behind.

Before the girls walked out the door, Hermione turned back around. “Mrs. Weasley, how come Anastasia is able to join the Order meeting? She can’t be much older than Ron and I.” She asked, looking over at the blonde.

“She’s a special case according to Dumbledore. Off you two go, you must be tired from traveling Hermione.” Mrs. Weasley said gently, and the brunette nodded before sending one more glance at the smirking Anya before walking out.

The room filled with the other Order members; they took their seats until finally Dumbledore joined the group. He stood at the end of the table, facing everyone with a smile.

“Good evening! Now let’s start before it gets too late. Any news about the Ministry?” Dumbledore said, addressing the ministry workers at the table.

“No, Fudge is still raving about how mad Harry and you are. He is obsessed with making sure no one believes the two of you. Its been hard to bring the topic up in conversation.” Tonks said.

They continued to inform Dumbledore on small things that had happened since last night, but there didn’t seem to be anything exciting or groundbreaking considering everyone’s glum demeanor. Anya looked around lazily, not fully understanding everything they were conversing about. She still had no idea who this Voldemort was or what he was doing, let alone who this Potter was they all talked about.

Anya attention was finally caught when Dumbledore mentioned her name. “Miss. Rosier, I believe its time we fill you in on what’s going on in our world. Do you have any question first?”

“What is this Voldemort? It would be nice to know more than just him being a dark wizard, yes?” Anya said, and Dumbledore nodded.

“Voldemort is a very evil wizard who strives to become the most powerful wizard known. He promotes the supremacy of purebloods, and for the extermination of Muggles and Muggleborns alike. Him and his followers have murdered hundreds of people in the last 20 years. He was defeated 14 years ago but was just recently brought back and is trying to once again gain power.”

“What a waste of magical blood. The deaths of nem varázslatok, sorry I mean Muggles, can be excused, but not the Muggleborns. If his only aspirations are to be considered the most powerful then he should crawl back under the rock he came from. Power should be used to achieve freedom and the betterment of all wizards, not just himself and his followers. And what do you mean, brought back?” She asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“We do not condone the murder of anyone, whether they be Muggle or magical, Miss. Rosier. Remember that” He said sternly before continuing.

“We believed he had been defeated and destroyed 14 years ago but it seems we were all mistaken. It seems he avoided death and had gone into hiding, restoring his power until he was ready to start his plans again.” Dumbledore informed.

“How was he defeated?”

“He tried to kill a young baby named Harry Potter.”

“A baby? Your ‘oh-so-powerful’ enemy was destroyed by a baby? If its that easy, then why are you all so afraid of him?”

“Harry Potter was not a normal baby. He survived the Killing Curse, which led to Voldemort’s defeat.”

“He really survived the Killing Curse? But that’s impossible! How did he do it?” She asked with a dark gleam in her eyes that reminded Dumbledore strongly of Gellert when he was formulating ideas.

“With love, Miss. Rosier” Dumbledore said like it was the answer for everything. She scowled, unhappy with his answer but knowing she would get nothing else out of him about it at that moment.

“So where is this Harry Potter? If he is so valuable, why is he not here under the guard of your Order?” She asked, leaning back into her seat.

“His currently lives with his Aunt and Uncle. He should be here soon enough, he usually joins the Weasleys for the summer around his birthday.” Lupin explained to the girl next to him.

“I am excited to meet this Harry Potter. He must be fascinating, yes?” She asked, her eyes glimmering.

Dumbledore’s blue eyes narrowed at the young Grindelwald, afraid of the ideas she must be forming. If she was anything like her father, Dumbledore knew her ideas were nothing innocent.

“Potter is a good lad, don’t try and fill his skull with your father’s repulsive reviews on ‘wizard domination’” Moody sneered from across the table. Anya hissed at the man’s blatant disrespect for her father. 

“How are you insult my father’s views! He wanted what was best for the wizarding world! His actions are justified because they were for the greater good!” She spat at the auror.

“Why you little- “

“Enough!” Dumbledore’s tone was commanding, drawing all eyes to him. “Miss. Rosier, Grindelwald’s actions revolved around violence and the oppression of the non-wizarding community. Nothing can justify murder. You have been taught these ideas, but you must let them go and live a life on the side of the light. I would hate to see you follow Grindelwald’s footsteps and end up in prison, or worse, dead.” Dumbledore said gently.

Anya stood so quickly; her chair let out a screech when it scratched the wood floor of the kitchen. Her small hands slammed on the tabletop and she leaned in Dumbledore’s direction. “Let them go?! Papa would be so disappointed in me if I let go! I was born and raised to believe and work for the greater good! I was born to help him achieve his goal. Why should the wizards have to hide in the gutters like rats! We have been blessed with magical blood, and yet we hide it! I would give my life for my father and his beliefs!”

Dumbledore look at her with sad eyes. He knew how alluring Gellert’s ideas could be, he had once shared them as a young man. He could only imagine how strongly they were rooted into the young girl in front of him. Looking at her angered face, he felt his heart lurch with how similar she was to her father.

“My dear girl, there will come a time when you will open your eyes, I just hope it won’t be too late when they do.” Dumbledore said pitifully.

“Never” she spat, glaring at the man. Oh, how she hated him. It was his fault she was here! It was his fault that she was separated from her father, she was alone in a time she knew almost nothing about. She was alone in a foreign country, and alone in her beliefs. Were there no more of her father’s acolytes? How could her father’s achievements and influence fade in such a short amount of time? She should have fought harder to stay with him in Paris. If she had, then perhaps he would have never been captured. She would have been at his side and together they would have freed the wizards from their chains. But no, she was in here, alone and afraid.

Everyone soon emptied out the room, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts.

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**Yayy! Chapter 4 is done, and I hope you guys like it! We get to meet Harry next.**

**I also want to take a second and say that I do not condone hatred or discrimination of any kind. Anya is a flawed character who has been shaped in her father’s image. Grindelwald was a political extremist and raised Anya to be one as well. I thought it would be nice to experiment with a darker character more than just a death eater one, or blood supremacy one.**

**Let me know what you guys think in the reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe, only Anya. Anything she quotes from Grindelwald I do not own either. We get to meet Harry in this chapter! Now that we are getting into the book/movie, chapters will start being longer. I’m also gonna mix the book and movies together. Some parts might be from the book, and some will be from the movie. I hope you guys enjoy!**

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It had been two weeks since Hermione arrived at Grimmauld Place, and the teenagers occupying the house were often together, laughing and enjoying their summer break. The lone- blonde teenager girl in the house, however, would spend her days curled up in the old green armchair, Crookshanks in her lap, and reading the books she had found forgotten in the Black family library.

Hermione’s cat had taken an immense liking towards Anya, and nobody really understood why. Anya didn’t mind though; she had always loved cats and she thought Crookshanks was adorable. Not to mention, he seemed smarter than the average cat.

The adults in the house found her behavior unnerving but understandable. Mrs. Weasley had tried her best try get the girl to socialize more. Even often forcing the girl to clean one room or the other with Hermione and Ginny.

It wasn’t that she hated the other teens, she just didn’t know how to act around them or what to talk about. She had always been around her father and his acolytes, never other children. She didn’t know the people the girls gossiped about, and she wasn’t interested in Quidditch which the boys were obsessed with.

What annoyed her the most was that she wasn’t allowed to attend the meetings the Order had almost every night. Ever since the meeting she was informed about Voldemort, they seemed to have pushed her aside and no longer allowed her in.

She didn’t like being out of the loop of political and war matters. She had always been in the center of her father’s meetings and his plotting; she used to be a part of something greater. Now, she spent her time reading and cleaning.

Dumbledore seemed determined for her to fight alongside them, but why would she when she had no personal investment? Sure, they could argue that she should want to protect the wizarding world and those that inhabit it, but that also came along with protecting the Muggles, something she wasn’t very keen about. It seemed like this whole war was a waste of time.

Voldemort wanted purebloods to rule the wizarding world, and to be known as the most powerful wizard ever known. And the Order simply fought against that. The whole war seemed entirely baseless and shallow to Anya.

She had just come from a war where she had been fighting for the freedom of the wizarding world, she had been fighting for the magical community to be able to reach its highest potential, no longer having to hide in the shadows, in fear of what the Muggles would do to them. She fought for the greater good. This war was nothing, it had no meaning to her, this war had no goal besides ‘defeat the bad guy’.

She wanted to learn more about the current time she was in, but the Order members often blew off her questions, and she wasn’t allowed to tell the other teens about her time-travel, so they were out of the question.

She had been surrounded by people, and yet, she felt so entirely alone. She always had her father growing up, and Queenie was a constant in her life as well. Without the two of them, she had nobody. She felt cold without her father near. How could she continue without him? These weeks had been torture for her. Oh, how she wished she could visit him in prison, to let him know she was alive and well. But she had no idea which prison in the wizarding world he was held in, Dumbledore and the others refused to tell her.

Hermione and Ginny were close friends, and the Weasley boys all had each other along with their parents. Oh, how she hated to watch them interact with their parents.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were such nice people and she didn’t hate them, not at all. Mrs. Weasley had gone out of her way to make Anya feel welcomed, and it warmed her heart. Granted, she did think Mr. Weasley’s obsession with Muggles was a bit disgusting, but he was a nice-enough man. The hatred mostly stemmed from her jealously.

She was jealous that the Weasley children had their parents with them, and she was jealous of how motherly Mrs. Weasley was towards everyone. Anya’s mother was never the motherly type, Anya loved Vinda, but she left a lot of be desired. Mrs. Weasley however was so warm and kind, and her cooking was to die for. The closet motherly figure she had growing up was her father’s acolyte Queenie.

Queenie was a beautiful American witch that was a Legilimens, she was always so kind to Anya and would always try and make Anya’s more feminine side come out when she was growing up. Anya’s heart broke even more at the thought of the sweet blonde woman. She would never see Queenie again; she doesn’t even know the fate the woman was dealt. Was she alive? In prison? Or was she dead?

Thundering footsteps broke Anya’s concentration away from the fire she had been staring at. She’d decided to change it up and sat in the sitting room that evening. Crookshanks was once again on her lap, and a book was left open on the seat next to her. She looked towards the hall, to see Snape, Tonks, and Shacklebolt walking quickly towards the kitchen, Moody was thumping loudly behind them. Their faces were lined with disbelief, anger and even the slightest bit of panic.

She raised a groomed eyebrow at their rushed movements, why were they being so noisy? They were never like this on any other night the Order had a meeting. Had something happened? She got up to follow them, only for the kitchen door to be closed in her face.

A nasty scowl graced her lips and she spun around, marching back to the seat she just emptied. She plopped down and grabbed her book and began petting Crookshanks with her free hand. Before she could even start to read again, footsteps echoed down the creaky staircase.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny walked into the sitting room and looked around, trying to find the commotion from moments before. “What’s going on? We heard people thundering about, its early for an Order meeting.” Hermione asked the blonde.

Hermione and Ginny were really the only teens that tried to engage the girl in conversation. Fred and George had played the occasional prank on her, but she had still yet to fall for their candy pranks. Ron didn’t seem to really like Anya, and always gave her nasty looks when he was in the same room as her.

Anya shrugged at the question, not looking away from her book. “It was Snape, Tonks, Moody and Shacklebolt. They seemed upset.” She said casually, not letting the anger of being left out flood her voice.

“Really? I hope nothing bad has happened” Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“I’m sure it’s nothing Hermione” Ginny reassured the curly haired girl.

“ _Most Macabre Monstrosities?_ I read that book in second year. Are you interested in magical creatures?” Hermione asked, sitting down in one of the armchairs. Ginny sat on the other end of the couch Anya was on.

“Really Hermione? You’re going to talk to her about a book? She hasn’t wanted to talk to us before, why is she going to now?” Ron huffed before taking a seat in the other empty armchair.

Anya ignored his jab and focused on Hermione. “They are interesting yes. I met a handsome, but odd man once that was very obsessed with creatures, I was never able to have more than a couple conversations with him, however. Unfortunately, most of the conversations we did have never turned out…peaceful” Anya said with a smirk, thinking about the auburn-haired man she had met a few times. He was one of the men that always seemed to be on the hunt for her father. She couldn’t remember his name though, but she knew it had something to do with reptiles.

“Did the two of you not get along?” Ginny asked.

“You could say that” Anya said vaguely, wanting to give more information, but knowing she would get in trouble with Dumbledore if she did. She may not like the man, but he was giving her protection and she was grateful for it.

“Are you going to be joining us at Hogwarts in September?” Hermione asked, eager that she was able to talk to the mysterious blonde that had lurked around Grimmauld Place since she arrived.

Anya nodded, closing her book and delicately placed her chin on her knuckles, leaning on the arm of the couch.

“What school are you transferring from? I don’t remember reading about Hogwarts receiving transfer students.” Hermione was confused at the idea. Why would someone leave their previous school? It’s not like Anya wouldn’t be able to attend her previous school just because she was in a new country.

“I was homeschooled previously.” Anya said shortly.

“Homeschooled? You never attended school? How can you preform magic then?” Hermione sounded scandalized at the idea of someone not going to school.

“Magic doesn’t come with attending a school. My father taught me everything I needed to know and more. Probably more than your schools have taught you.” Anya said with a proud voice, not caring if she hurt Hermione’s feelings.

“Oi! No need to be rude! She’s just asking a question. Hermione is top of our class” Ron scolded from his seat.

“Truthfully? I never would have guessed.” Anya was getting uncomfortable with all the questions directed at her, she wanted them to leave her in peace.

Hermione looked angry but before she could say anything in response to Anya’s insult, the kitchen door opened, and Mrs. Weasley came out.

“I’m glad you are all here! Makes it easier than finding all of you. Harry will be arriving soon so all of you be well behaved. Ron he will be rooming with you like always. We’ll have supper after he has arrived.”

Hermione’s, Ginny’s and Ron’s anger all vanished off their face once Harry’s arrival was mentioned.

“Harry coming? He usually doesn’t come this early.” Ginny asked.

“He’s gotten in trouble with the Ministry. Arthur sent word that Harry performed the Patronus charm in front of his cousin. Now, the Ministry is trying to expel him. Dumbledore thought it best if he joined us here.” Sirius answered from behind Mrs. Weasley.

Three of the four teenagers jumped up with questions, leaving Anya took look at them all confused, and annoyed at their loud tones.

“He’s being expelled?”

“They can’t do that!”

“Bloody Hell!”

Sirius raised a hand to silence them, before explaining, “I’m sure Harry will explain everything to you once he gets here. The Order members retrieving him have just left. Dumbledore won’t let Harry be expelled so there’s no need to worry.”

Hermione, Ron and Ginny went upstairs, sharing their excitement about Harry coming. Anya continued to watch them, even as their voices went away.

Sirius and Mrs. Weasley walked back into the kitchen after they gave Anya small smiles.

Anya could feel a small wave of excitement coursing through her at meeting Harry Potter. She still remembered what she had been told about him surviving the Killing Curse. She was fascinated with how he achieved it, there had to be more to it than just love as Dumbledore claimed.

She had been researching in the Black family library but was unable to find any spells or magic that could have been at work. She had to learn how to do it, it would put her at such a huge advantage. How many could say they didn’t fear death?

The only other way she could think of was the Deathly Hallows. She knew the story by heart. It had been her favorite tale as a little girl, only to later learn that it was a true. Her father was always obsessed with the Deathly Hallows, believing it even more vehemently after gaining possession of the Elder Wand in his youth. However, the Invisibility Cloak and Resurrection Stone, remained out of his grasp.

She had always hoped that the wand would be passed to her after her father passed away, but now that would never happen. It had been stolen from him by Dumbledore. No matter how badly she wanted it, or as powerful as she was, she stood absolutely no chance in a duel against Dumbledore.

Maybe an hour had passed before commotion broke out in the hallway again. ‘They must be back’ Anya thought before standing and peeking into the hallway. Mrs. Weasley had already made it there and had pulled a dark-haired boy into her arms.

She held him a bit away from her body and spoke, “You’re looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you’ll have to wait a bit for dinner, I’m afraid…” She then whispered to Moody and the others, but Anya was unable to hear her. Everyone started walking to the kitchen door, but Mrs. Weasley stopped Harry before he could go in.

“No, Harry, the meeting’s only for members of the Order. Ron and Hermione are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting’s over and then we’ll have dinner. And keep your voice down in the hall” She warned.

Anya had to roll her eyes, remembering the awful portrait that hung on the stairway. Anya had the unfortunate experience of meeting the portrait’s inhabitant when she got too curious one day and pulled away the curtain hiding it. The voice’s loud volume still echoed in her head over a week later.

“Oh! Anya! Perfect dearie, you can show Harry to Ron’s room. I need to be back in the meeting, so you will have to do it for me.” Mrs. Weasley smiled at the two before walking into the kitchen and quickly closing the door.

Anya and Harry stood in silence for a moment, both just looking at the other. He was taller than her by a good few inches, he had messy black hair that went in every direction, circular glasses, and a thin build. He was cuter than she’d expected.

Harry was at a loss at the unfamiliar girl standing before him. She couldn’t have been older than him but why was she here? The name Anya didn’t ring a bell to him either, but with the lack of letters he had been sent this summer, she could have been a secret that everyone was so willing to hide from him. Thinking about the lack of communication from his friends this summer made his blood simmer once again, the anger of feeling ignored was prevalent and was waiting to show its ugly head.

The silence seemed to have been too much for the blonde because she finally stepped forwards and held out a hand. “I’m Anastasia Rosier, but you can call me Anya. You are Harry Potter?” Her voice was deep, thick accent Harry couldn’t place. Her voice was deeper than Hermione’s or Ginny’s, but it was still feminine. It was more of a seductive, cool voice then a light, musical once.

Harry took her cold hand and shook it politely “I am, it’s nice to meet you”. She let go of his hand before motioning towards the stairs and walking up them. Harry followed her lead, the stairs creaking ominously below them. The walls were dusty, and when they made it to the first landing, they passed glass jars lining the walls, filled with what Harry believed were the heads of house elves inside of them.

“Why are there heads on the walls?” Harry asked the girl in front of him. She simply shrugged at his question, not knowing the answer. They quickly made it to the second landing before Anya knocked on the first door to their left, opening it after a second had passed.

She let Harry enter first since it was his friends occupying the room. She had insulted them only an hour before and wasn’t very excited to join them for conversation again.

“HARRY! Ron, he’s here, Harry’s here! We didn’t hear you arrive! Oh, how are you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless – but we couldn’t tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn’t, oh, we’ve got so much to tell you, and you’ve got to tell us – the dementors! When we heard – and that Ministry hearing – it’s just outrageous, I’ve looked it all up, they can’t expel you, they just can’t, there’s provision in the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations –"

“Let him breathe Hermione” Ron finally cut the brunette’s rambling off. Anya had walked away in the middle of Hermione’s tirade, walking to where her and Ginny shared a room. It was empty, so she could only assume the tiny red-haired girl was with the twins.

Harry had turned around to look at the blonde, only to see she was gone. He furrowed his brows and turned to look at his best friends. “Who’s the girl? She introduced herself as Anastasia Rosier.”

Ron’s grin quickly fell, and an irritated look crossed his face. Even Hermione’s smile had fallen.

“Prideful git that one is. She hides out around here reading books about the Dark Arts. We only ever really see her at meals or when Mum forces her to clean with us. Reckon she’s some kid from a Death Eater family. There was a Death Eater named Rosier who was killed during the first war. Probably gonna be one just like her family”

“Ronald!” Hermione scolded him for insulting the girl who was not there to defend herself. She turned to Harry with an uneasy look on her face.

“She isn’t the most pleasant, but I believe she’s just sad. She was here before I arrived two weeks ago. I’ve only talked to her a handful a times, she seems very intelligent, but she is interested in the Dark Arts like Ron said. I don’t believe she’s from a Death Eater family, however. She mentioned Rosier was her mother’s name, who was French. Anya also mentioned she was born in Austria. So, neither she nor her mum are British, and from what I’ve read, most of You-Know-Who’s influence has always been in England.” Hermione explained.

“What’s her dad’s name then?” Harry asked.

“We don’t know. She’s never mentioned it.”

“You think she might have connections to Voldemort? Don’t you think it’s strange that someone with possible family ties to a Death Eater just happens to show up after Voldemort has been brought back? I doubt it’s a coincidence. She might be a spy.” Harry theorized.

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other at his paranoia, but Ron felt it was justified against the girl.

“Dumbledore showed up with her late one night. Moody doesn’t seem to care for her much, but the rest of the Order doesn’t seem to pay her much attention. Mum, Sirius and Lupin are the only ones who really try with her. She sat in on two meetings when she first arrived but hasn’t been allowed in anymore since.” Ron said.

“She’s joining us this year at Hogwarts, she was homeschooled before. There was something she said though when I first met her. I was talking to her about Paris, and she doesn’t seem to have a good opinion on Muggles, but she said she doesn’t care about blood purity—"

“She hates Muggles?” Harry asked with disgust.

“Well, she said she didn’t hate them, just that they had a ‘different value then those with magical blood’. It sounded familiar; I believe I’ve read something like that before. I’ve got to look in the library when we get back to Hogwarts.”

“All the more reason she’s no good. She’s probably gonna be sorted into Slytherin and become best friends with Malfoy. She can share her interest in Dark Arts there with the rest of the scum” Ron spat, and Hermione gave him a scathing look.

“I’m insulted Weasley. And here I was, thinking you thought so highly of me” A cold voice at the doorway caused the three occupants to spin in that direction. There, leaning on the inner doorframe was the very witch they had just been talking about.

Ron scuffed at her. “Resorted to eavesdropping, have we?”

She raised a brow at him in a condescending manner. “I don’t think it counts if you three are speaking loud enough for your conversation to be heard through the _open door._ ”

Hermione blushed at being caught gossiping, but Harry just looked angry.

“You should mind your business” Harry said to the girl, and her icy blue eyes turned to meet his emerald green.

“Mind my business? Forgive me, but I seem to recall the three of you were just talking about me. If anything was my business, this would be it. I don’t appreciate people talking behind my back. Grow up and ask me your questions yourself.” She said coolly, a glare directed at the three 15-year olds.

“Like you would answer them, you’ve avoided the questions Hermione has asked” Ron said with a scowl.

“I think I’ve answered the questions to the best of my abilities. I’ve told her where I was from, how I learned magic, and about my parents.”

“You gave the vaguest answers possible.”

“If you want to know more, then bring it up with your Headmaster. He’s the one that doesn’t want me to share more. I’d be glad to tell you all about me, I’m proud of who I am.” Anya argued.

“A proud Death Eater, I’m sure” Harry spoke once again. She turned back to him with a dark smile.

“How presumptive of you, Potter. Your friends tell you my name is Rosier and that I like the Dark Arts and all the sudden I’m in league with your enemy? I’ll tell you once and one time only. I’m not a Death Eater. Their goals are shallow and lack ambition, I would appreciate not being lumped together with such people.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at the girl’s words. “Then why’d Ron say you hate Muggles?”

“I don’t hate Muggles; I don’t run my life based on hatred. I simply think the Muggles have a different disposition; they have a different value if you will. Papa always said that magic blooms in the rarest of souls, so why should we hide that from the Muggles? I’m against hiding from them and giving them control of the world when we have seen all the wars, they have led themselves towards. I’m against their arrogance, their power lust, and their barbarity. That’s where I stand. It’s a greater ambition then simply enforcing blood supremacy.”

Hermione had a puzzled look on her face, like the one when Anya had mentioned her views the first time. “You sound like the reports I read about the dark wizard Grindelwald. But he was far before our time.”

Anya gave a dark smile, one that was clearly mocking them, “Perhaps” was all she said before standing straight and walking down the stairs.

“Whose Grindelwald?” Harry asked his two friends. Hermione looked pale and Ron looked unconcerned for the most part, but he had paled slightly.

“He was a very dark wizard, before Voldemort. He believed that Muggles were beneath wizards. He had a lot of influence in continental Europe, he was the leader of a revolution against the European Ministries to disband the Statue of Secrecy. I read about him in a _List of Most Dangerous Dark Wizards of All Time,_ he’s second only to You-Know-Who. If she believes the way he did, then it could be dangerous. Dumbledore ended Grindelwald’s reign of terror back in the 40s, there’s no way she has firsthand experience of it. Her family must have been followers of him but after his defeat, continued to pass the ideas to each generation. Like how the pureblood families do here.”

“Great just what I need, another dark wizard fanatic! But now it’s about a dark wizard I don’t even know about!” Harry said throwing himself backwards on the bed.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much, mate. Grindelwald’s been locked up for over 50 years now. One teenage girl isn’t gonna bring him back.” Ron said dismissively.

It made sense to Harry, how could a 15-year-old girl be any more dangerous than Voldemort and his followers? Sure, she might have some crazy beliefs, but perhaps being away from her family would change that. He could only hope she wouldn’t turn out to be another enemy.


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe. Only Anya.**

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Walking downstairs, Anya couldn’t help but feel peeved about Harry, Ron, and Hermione talking about her. She was insulted that they thought she would be supportive of such a lousy aspiration like Voldemort’s followers were. Yes, she liked and studied the Dark Arts, but when it came to a life or death situation, did it truly matter what kind of magic she used? If she got out safe, then she would do whatever was necessary.

She did, however, like that Hermione had mentioned her father. If Hermione was able to notice the similarities in her beliefs to the ones she had read about her father then maybe they would find out her identity. If they figured it out, then Dumbledore couldn’t get angry at her, it wouldn’t be her fault.

Although, at the same time, her identity being a secret could help her in the long run. The Ministry had no idea she was here in 1995, she had long since vanished according to the world. Why would they be searching for her 50 years later? She had been wanted back in 1945, she had been chased by aurors, and had run from the law. She was known to be one of her father’s top supporters, despite her young age. If they found out her identity now, what would keep them from arresting her?

Anya could feel the frown gracing her lips when she walked into the kitchen and took a seat. The meeting had ended and only a handful of people were left. Sirius must have noticed her frown because he stood from his seat and clapped a strong hand on her shoulder.

“Why the frown? Harry is here and is a lovely kid, you two might hit it off” Sirius teased and wiggled his eyebrows at the girl. She glared at him and scuffed at the idea of her and Harry ever being together.

“Never in a million years, Black. Potter seems content enough to accuse me of being a Death Eater, after only speaking a few words to me. Real charmer you all have here.”

Sirius frown and glanced over at Remus, who was looking at them as well with a puzzled look.

“He accused you of being a Death Eater?” Remus asked.

Anya nodded, gently shaking Sirius’ hand off her and taking a seat across from the scarred man.

“Ron told him about me studying the Dark Arts and that my name was Rosier. Apparently, that’s enough proof for him.” She rolled her eyes and scowled thinking of the self-righteous boy upstairs.

A loud crash quickly broke apart their conversation and they all whipped their heads around to the door.

“Tonks!” Mrs. Weasley cried from the doorway.

“I’m sorry! The stupid umbrella stand, that’s the second time I’ve tripped over –” Tonks responded from the hall, before a terrible screech filled the house. Remus quickly darted out of the room, Mrs. Weasley leading ahead.

_“Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers – “_

When the portrait continued to scream obscenities to the occupants of the house, Sirius decided to join them. Anya herself couldn’t be bothered to follow, she stayed in the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.

She turned to the two men still in the room with her, “tea?” she offered to the red-haired men in the room, completely ignoring the sleeping Mundungus. Mr. Weasley shook his head no, while Bill smiled and said yes. She put the kettle on the stove and leaned back against the counter, waiting for the water to boil.

“Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!” Sirius’ roar joined the symphony of sounds.

 _“Yooooou! Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!”_ The portrait howled with fury.

“I said – shut UP!” was the last yell before the screeching finally came to an end. Anya rubbed her temples, relieved at the silence. Sadly, it didn’t last for too long before everyone soon filed back into the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley came in first, followed by Remus, Sirius, and the teens all led the back of the line. Harry and Anya connected eyes before they both scowled at one another.

“Harry! Good to see you!” Mr. Weasley had jumped up and hurried to shake the boy’s hand. Bill rolled up the parchment he had been looking at before joining his father in greeting Harry.

“Journey all right, Harry? Mad-Eye didn’t make you come via Greenland, then?” Bill said with a smile. Anya looked at him confused, before shaking her head and looking down to examine her nails. She needs to fix them again, possibly even paint them with the varnish Ginny had showed her a few nights before.

Mrs. Weasley waved her wand to help Bill gather the parchment in his arms, scolding him all the while. “This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings.”

Bill quickly vanished the scrolls as everyone decided to sit down. “You’ve meet Mundungus, haven’t you?” Sirius said to Harry, causing the man to jerk awake with a loud snore.

“Some’n say m’ name? I ‘gree with Sirius…” Mundungus mumbled and lazily raised his hand in a vote. Anya glared at the man in distaste. She didn’t understand why the filthy man felt the need to be there if all he was going to do was sleep and dirty up the table. 

Ginny and Hermione seemed to have found it funny though, as their giggles echoed gently from where they sat. “The meeting’s over, Dung, Harry’s arrived” Sirius said.

“Eh?” Mundungus finally sat up and eyed Harry from across the table. “Blimey, so ‘e ‘as. Yeah…you all right, ‘arry?”

“Yeah” Harry answered simply.

Mundungus rummaged around his pockets and pulled out a grimy old pipe, lighting it with his wand and taking a long drag. Green smoke billowed from it, causing almost everyone to shy away.

“For the last time, Mundungus, will you please _not_ smoke that thing in the kitchen, especially not when we’re about to eat.!” Mrs. Weasley snapped from where she stood next to Anya at the stove.

“Ah, right. Sorry, Molly” Mundungus said and vanished the smoke before stuffing the pipe back into his tattered coat. Anya sneered at the man before turning away and taking the kettle off the stove when it started to whistle. She waved her hand and two cups floated from the cabinets and placed themselves in front of her.

She poured in the tea before levitating the cups to the table. She set Bill’s in front of him with a small smile before taking a seat next to Remus. “You made tea without offering, how rude Miss Rosier.” Remus teased the girl quietly and she gave him a smile in return. She waved her hand once again and the teapot floated over with another cup, serving Remus.

“You seem to be quite talented in wandless magic for how young you are.” Remus commented. Anya smirked at him, taking a small sip of her tea.

“You seem to forget whose daughter I am. I’ve been taught magic since I was able to talk. I’m plenty capable of wandless magic.”

“Still, I would be careful when you go to Hogwarts. It’s not common to do for someone your age, you don’t want to bring attention to yourself.” Remus warned lightly.

“I’ll remember your advice” Anya said honestly. She had gained respect for Remus during her stay at Grimmauld’s Place and intended to take his advice to heart. He was a highly intelligent man, and she enjoy the conversations she held with him. They would often talk about books, and historical events that they were both interested in. She was bitter that he would not share much with her about current politics in the world, or anything that he might know about her father, but she didn’t push it.

Anya watched as Remus’ eyes followed Tonks as she bounded into the kitchen towards Mrs. Weasley with enthusiasm, asking to help cook dinner. His eyes were filled with warmth, but also reservation. Anya looked between the two with narrowed eyes, trying to see the connection the two held. Were the family? No, she doubted that, they held no similar characteristics. Perhaps just very good friends? That was a possibility. The idea of them being romantically involved crossed her mind, but quickly left.

Anya had no experience with romance. She had no time for it growing up, not to mention never interacting with boys her age. She knew the basics of romance, of course, thanks to Queenie’s hopeless romanticism. Anya knew about attraction, she had found a few of her father’s acolytes handsome, and even, dare she say, a few of her father’s enemies. Not that she would have ever admitted to that.

She remembered the two Scamander brothers she first met when she was younger. She was maybe 12 at the time and her father had given her a mission to try and infiltrate their group as a lost girl with connections to Grindelwald. Ultimately, it didn’t end up very well and she escaped back to her father. From what she remembered, they were both quite older than her, although she had developed her first crush on the youngest brother. She wondered if the two were still alive, they would be in their hundreds if they were.

Anya’s eyes shot to the other end of the kitchen when she heard Mrs. Weasley yell. “Fred – George – NO, JUST CARRY THEM!” a spit second after her shriek, Anya, Mundungus, Harry, Sirius, Bill and Remus dived away from the table. During Anya’s thinking of the brothers in the past, she hadn’t noticed Fred and George bewitch a large cauldron of stew, a large flagon of butterbeer, and a heavy breadboard, that still had the knife placed on it. The cauldron seemed to have caught on air, skidding a crossed the wooden table, the butterbeer crashed to the ground, quickly spreading its sticky liquid all over the black wooden floor. What really made everyone dive away in panic, was the bread knife had fallen from the bread board in the direction of where they sat and impaled itself, right where Sirius’ hand had been seconds before.

“FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE! THERE WAS NO NEED – I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS – JUST BEAUSE YOU’RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW YOU DON’T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!” Mrs. Weasley screams at a volume that could easily rival the portrait in the hallway. If this is what it meant to have a maternal mother, Anya was relieved that she had the cold Vinda for a mother.

Harry and Sirius both had burst with laughter when Fred defended himself to his mother, yanking the knife out of the tabletop. Mundungus had fallen away from the table in a less graceful manner, he had toppled his chair backwards. Anya and Remus had left their chairs and ducked low under the table. While Bill had rushed to be closer to the wall. Everyone got to their feet, smiles and laughter soon gracing their faces when the adrenaline finally wore off. Mundungus and Mrs. Weasley seemed to be the only ones who weren’t amused. Mrs. Weasley was still fuming at her sons and Mundungus was cursing to himself, trying to right his chair.

“Boys” Mr. Weasley had joined the conversation now, using his wand to clean the mess and coming to Mrs. Weasley’s defense. “Your mother’s right, you’re supposed you show a sense of responsibility now you’ve come of age – “

“— none of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!” Mrs. Weasley continued to rage at her twins. “Bill didn’t feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn’t Charm everything he met! Percy – “She cut herself off with a pale look, that matched Mr. Weasley.

“Let’s eat!” Bill cut in from where he had moved to the corner.

“It looks wonderful, Molly” Remus said, ladling stew on a plate and handing it to her, before doing the same to Anya and then himself. Anya gave him a quite thank you, watching as everyone else finally joined them and sat around the table for dinner. Bill had helped himself to the seat next to her, and Hermione sat in the one directly across.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, there’s something trapped in the writing desk in the drawing room, it keeps rattling and shaking. Of course, it could just be a boggart, but I thought we ought to ask Alastor to have a look at it before we let it out” Mrs. Weasley addressed to Sirius.

“Whatever you like,” Sirius didn’t seem to care much about the conversation of cleaning the house. Not that Anya could blame him, she always hated cleaning anything more than her room back at her father’s strongholds.

“The curtains in there are full of doxies too” Mrs. Weasley continued, “I thought we might tackle them tomorrow. Anya dear, perhaps you can help. It would be good for you to get out of that dusty library. Who knows what is in there?”

Anya nodded politely at the woman, “Of course, Mrs. Weasley. Anything I can do to be of help.”

“Yeah right, like it’s possible to get you away from those lousy books.” She heard Ron remark nastily and send a harsh glare his way. He caught her eyes and glared back before turning to inhale his food. Anya hated the rude remarks he would always make at her when she tried to be polite to the others in the house. He needed to learn some manners if he ever hoped to do anything with himself. But, for now, Anya didn’t want to teach him manners, she wanted to do something childish instead.

She slyly took her wand from her sleeve and waved it in his direction under the table. His stew exploded into his face, covering his pale skin and hair in the thick, brown liquid.

“Blood Hell!” He shot back in his chair, wiping the stew from his face. The twins, Harry, and Sirius all erupted into laughter. Anya tried to hide her smirk but failed. Remus tried to give her an admonishing look, knowing it had been her, but it was easy to see the smile fighting the corner of his lips and the amusement in his eyes.

“What in the bloody hell did you do that for?!” Ron yelled at her when he saw her smirk.

“You need to learn some manners. Plus, you seemed so eager to inhale your food, I thought having it on your face, would be useful to help you slowdown, least you choke” 

Before Ron could retort, Mrs. Weasley stepped in to scold them. “No magic at the table!”

Anya nodded to her immediately, while Ron huffed and crossed his arms. Mr. Weasley waved his wand and cleaned the stew off his son, before Ron ladled more soup onto his plate.

Anya started listening to Remus’, Mr. Weasley’s and Bill’s discussion on the goblins.

“They’re not giving anything away yet,” said Bill. “I still can’t work out whether they believe he’s back or not. ‘Course, they might prefer not to take sides at all. Keep out of it.”

“I’m sure they’d never go over to You-Know-Who,” Mr. Weasley, shook his head. “They’ve suffered losses too. Remember that goblin family he murdered last time, somewhere near Nottingham?”

Anya didn’t understand why Voldemort would take the time to murder a goblin family. Did he hate goblins as well as those who were not pureblooded? How did this guy expect the wizarding world to survive with only pureblooded wizarding families? The other magical breeds and races played a pivotal role in the function of the wizarding world, not to mention if it was only pure bloods left, the inbreeding between families would have devastating consequences.

“I think it depends what they’re offered,” Remus said. “And I’m not talking about gold; if they’re offered freedoms, we’ve been denying them for centuries they’re going to be tempted. Have you still not had any luck with Ragnok, Bill?”

“He’s feeling pretty anti-wizard at the moment,” Bill said in return. “He hasn’t stopped raging about the Bagman business, he reckons the Ministry did a cover-up, those goblins never got their gold from him, you know –” Anya decided that listing to the three men talk about goblins wasn’t very interesting, nor informative, so she stopped listening.

Mundungus was telling a story, that was no doubt a lie, so Anya didn’t bother listing to the man.

Anya caught the stern look Mrs. Weasley had sent to Sirius before she got up from the table to get desert. Anya noticed that Harry had seen the look to, before turning to his godfather to question him.

“Molly doesn’t approve of Mundungus,” Sirius said quietly.

“How come he’s in the Order?” Harry asked.

At the mention of the Order, Anya’s attention was caught and concentrated on the conversation, wanting every possible detail.

“He’s useful. Knows all the crooks – well, he would, seeing as he’s one himself. But he’s also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out of a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around, he hears things we don’t. But Molly thinks inviting him to stay for dinner is going to ar. She hasn’t forgiving him for slipping off duty when he was supposed to be tailing you.” Sirius informed. Unfortunately, none of it really seemed important to Anya.

She helped herself to a serving of the rhubarb crumble, when the conversation finally got interesting.

“Nearly time for bed, I think.” Mrs. Weasley said with a yawn.

“Not just yet, Molly,” Sirius stated, pushing his plate away and looking at Harry. “You know, I’m surprised at you. I thought the first thing you’d do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort.”

The air turned tense at Sirius statement, everyone looking wary and pale. Anya was glad that it had been brought up, she wanted to know everything she could about this current war if she was expected to fight. She didn’t want to fight and put herself in danger for something she knew nothing about, and now she would hopefully learn some more information without directly asking for it, lessening the chances of her being denied.

“I did! I asked Ron and Hermione, but they said we’re not allowed in the Order, so—”

“And they’re quite right,” Mrs. Weasley cut him off. “You’re too young.” The tiredness had left her face in an instant.

“Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions? Harry’s been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He’s got the right to know what’s been happen—” Sirius said.

“Hang on!” George interrupted this time.

“How come Harry gets his questions answered?” Fred joined in angrily. Anya couldn’t help but agree with them.

“I agree with the twins. They both are of age, and even I’d like my own questions answered.” Anya’s voice joined for the first time since dinner started.

“You know why your questions haven’t been answered dear.” Mrs. Weasley said lightly, unconcerned. Anya raised a brow, feeling insulted at being brushed off.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t” Anya said crossing her arms, but was quickly ignored when George jumped back in.

“ _We’ve_ been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven’t told us a single stinking thing!”

“ _You’re too young, you’re not in the Order_ ,” Fred said in a high-pitched tone, no doubt imitating his mother. “Harry’s not even of age!”

“It’s not my fault you haven’t been told what the Order’s doing,” Sirius said calmly towards the twins. “That’s your parents’ decision. Harry, on the other hand –”

“It’s not down to you to decide what’s good for Harry!” Mrs. Weasley snapped at the dark-haired man, her face looking dangerous. “You haven’t forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?”

“Which bit?” Sirius said politely, but Anya could see himself readying for a fight.

“The bit about not telling Harry more then he _needs to know,”_ Mrs. Weasley said. Anya and Remus had focused most of their attention on Sirius at that point, Anya was taking Sirius side, mostly for the fact that she would gain more information if Harry was able to have his questions answered.

“I don’t intend to tell him more then he _needs to know,_ Molly. But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back, he has more right than most to – “

“He’s not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!” Mrs. Weasley seemed determined to make sure that Harry was given no answers, which Anya thought was selfish on her part. She wasn’t his mother, and from what Anya could tell, she wasn’t his guardian either. Anya truly didn’t think Mrs. Weasley was in the right, but Anya kept her mouth closed.

“He’s not _James_ , Sirius!” Mrs. Weasley seemed to have sit a sore spot, because Sirius’ face immediately turned to stone, and his voice was cold.

“I’m perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly,”

“I’m not sure you are! Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it’s as though you think you’ve got your best friend back!”

Anya turned to Remus and motioned for him to lean down towards her. She sat a little straighter so she could reach his ear.

“Aren’t you going to say something? You seem to be the most reasonable when it comes to Black. It surely can’t be good for them to continue like this.” She whispered in his ear.

“There isn’t much good I can do when they start to argue. They both have fiery tempers that are good to get out after a time.” Remus whispered back to the young girl.

“Still, I don’t even know Potter, but I can see the frustration in his eyes. The arguing is only going to backfire against your Order. Answering him will be the best choice” Anya responded quietly, keeping her eye on the argument in front of her.

“We aren’t supposed to tell him a lot of stuff according to Order matters, ones that you, unfortunately cannot know as well. But I do agree that he should know some of the basics” Lupin said with a gentle smile at the girl.

Remus leaned away from the blonde before quietly putting his own input in the argument. “Personally, I think it better that Harry gets the facts – not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture – from us, rather then a garbled version from … others.”

Remus’ opinion seemed to have been the last straw for Mrs. Weasley who decided the fight was not going to end in her favor. “Well, well… I can see I’m going to be overruled. I’ll just say this; Dumbledore must have had his reason for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone whose got Harry’s best interests at heart – “

“He’s not your son,” Sirius said with a glare at the woman.

“He’s as good as, who else has he got?” Mrs. Weasley spat.

“He’s got me!”

“Yes, the thing is, it’s been rather difficult for you to look after him while you’ve been locked up in Azkaban, hasn’t it?”

Anya’s jaw slightly dropped at the nasty comment. Anya didn’t know the entire situation, but she had gathered the basics about Sirius and his previous imprisonment. She knew it was a sore spot for the man, and she lost a bit of respect for Mrs. Weasley at her remark.

“Mrs. Weasley, I don’t believe that was a necessary comment. I may not have a clear understanding, but I do know that Black was imprisoned for false crimes. The fact that you threw that in his face when it came to Potter’s well-being was cold. You can make decisions for your children, but as much as you might not like it, Potter isn’t one of them.” Anya said, deciding to take the rare stance of defending another.

Mrs. Weasley looked at the girl with a shocked and slightly hurt look, before the anger flooded her face as she snapped, “You can’t talk Anastasia, considering who your father is. I doubt he was able to make decisions for your wellbeing, being consumed with his ideology!”

Anya felt the rage course through her veins, and she could have cursed the red-haired woman on the spot. This woman knew _nothing_ about her father. How dare she assume _anything_ about her father and his concern for Anya.

“How _dare_ you!” Anya roared as she stood from her seat, glaring at the woman with icy blue eyes. Her eyes were so cold, everyone seemed to flinch away from the girl, feeling the power that radiated from her.

“Anastasia –” Remus started, wanting to calm the girl but was quickly ignored.

“You know nothing about my father and me! Don’t ever assume that you do! I’m here _because_ my father cared for my well-being! He sent me away from him to protect me! Papa’s aspirations never got in the way of his concern for me! He included me and taught me. He made hard decisions for the greater good! While, you’re here, arguing about some faceless villain that seems to terrify you so much that you can’t even mention his name!”

“Your father was a monster! He would have been a man Order would have fought against! You can’t possibly think his actions were right!”

Anya was livid, she wanted to show the woman how much her father had taught her and what it meant to be on her bad side. She wasn’t just any 15-year-old girl, she was the daughter of one of the most powerful wizards ever known, did this woman really think that she could insult Anya’s father with no repercussions?

She could feel the darkness swirling in the back of her mind, whispering for the girl to attack, to punish the woman for her insolence, her disrespect. The darkness crawled and danced at the edge of her vision, blocking out the others in the room.

Anya could feel herself reaching for her wand, focused entirely on the woman in front of her, so much so that she didn’t notice Remus had jumped from his seat, until he wrapped his arms tightly around the young girl, trapping her arms at her side, unable to reach any farther.

“ENOUGH!” Remus snapped at the two. He could feel Anya struggling against his hold. He had well over a foot on the girl in height and was much stronger, so her fighting didn’t faze him, but he knew she was livid.

“I think that’s enough Molly.” Remus said walking forward, slightly dragging the angry girl with him. He bent down to Anya’s ear and whispered to her quietly, “stop fighting and calm down, if you do ill let you go.”

Anya stopped struggling, and when she stayed still, causing Remus removed his arms. She quickly took a step back and sent him a quick glare.

“Go upstairs, it’s been a long night. Get some rest” He said to the girl.

“I want to know what’s going on. I have been locked in this house, in a new time with no information on a battle I’m expected to fight. I want to know” Anya argued.

“No, not after trying to attack Molly. You need to show the Order you can be trusted with the information and that you are mature enough to handle it. Whatever your father may have trusted you with or how much he trusted you, it doesn’t hold much credibility here” Remus said sternly.

“I—”

“ _Go_ ” He said sharply, cutting her off. She sent one last nasty look to Mrs. Weasley before storming upstairs to her room.

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**Poor Anya was close to getting answers, but her temper ruined her chance. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! We got to learn a little bit about Anya’s past in the chapter, and some of the things she did for her father. How do you guys like Remus’ interactions with her in this chapter? I like the idea of him being a respected authority figure to her, she definitely needs one in my eyes. Let me know your thoughts and I’ll see you guys in the next chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own Harry Potter; it belongs to J.K Rowling.**

**XXXXX**

It was a couple weeks after Anya was sent from dinner by Remus like a petulant child, and they were spent mostly locked in her room. She was content locking herself away in the musty room, and away from the other occupants of the house.

She would only leave her room for the bathroom, meals, and when she would sneak out and sit in the lounge at ungodly hours of the night. She had gotten good at making her way through the old house without a sound.

At night when the house had gone silent and she was pretty sure everyone was asleep in their rooms; she would bundle up in front of the fire with whatever book she had grabbed from the Black family library earlier in the day.

The books were never terribly interesting, but it was soothing to Anya to read by the fire. It reminded her of the nights she would spend in her father’s study with him, both in their own chairs by the fire reading. Just being in her father’s presence was enough to make all the tension and anxiety leave Anya’s body when growing up.

She had been at Grimmauld place for a few weeks now and the emptiness she felt without her father around had yet to cease. She knew he was alive somewhere in the world, and she was desperate to find him and reunite with him, but she knew she would be caught by the Ministry. She wasn’t prepared or, as much as she hated to admit, she wasn’t strong enough yet.

The crackling fire in front of her was the only sound that broke the silence in the room as she thought about what it would take to find her father’s prison.

She had scoured the Black family library for any information about her father arrest she could find, but there was no useful information. She could only hope that the library at Hogwarts would be more forthcoming with answers.

If she was being forced to go to school, she hoped that it wouldn’t be a complete waste of her time. If she could get even the slightest hint about his prison’s whereabouts, whatever time she spent in that school would be well used.

Her planning was broken when she heard footsteps coming into the sitting room. She could see Sirius’ thin figure merge from the dark hallway and into the lounge where she sat.

“Finally leave your room then?” Sirius teased to the younger girl.

She shrugged and turned back to the fire; her book forgotten in her lap.

“Look, Anya. I know that you are in a house full of strangers, in a completely different time, and I can only imagine how much you miss your _father_ \- “Sirius seemed to choke slightly on the word father, reminded as to who it was. “-But you need to face the changes. You need to adapt and not lock yourself away from the world. As much as you don’t like it, you are going to have to face people when you go to Hogwarts and try and be a normal teenage girl.”

“A normal teenage girl? I’ve never been normal. I was a leader in Papa’s revolution. _Grindelwald’s revolution_. I was by his side planning, and being taught, I was the first at his rallies and his battles. I am his biggest supporter and now I am expected to just forget all that and attend some _school_?” Anya said.

Sirius sighed and sat down next to her on the couch.

“Grindelwald’s time is over. His revolution ended 50 years ago, Anya. It was a few weeks ago for you, but for everyone here? It’s something most of us Order members were babies during, if we were born at all. The kids at Hogwarts learn of Grindelwald from their textbooks and second-hand stories. _For your own sake_ , you must blend in. Dark times are coming Anya, and this time you’re not a leader in it. You’re on the opposite side of that darkness, and you mustn’t get lost in it. You claim you fought for equality for the wizarding world, and now you must do it again. But this time, instead of against the Muggles, you have to fight against an even greater wizard that wants to oppress the magical world.” Sirius spoke with fire in his eyes, and Anya could tell how important it was to him to get his words to sink in.

She took a deep breath, looking away from his eyes to ponder his words. She had spent weeks denying it, but he was right. Her father’s revolution was over and was now only seen as a dark time in history. Those battles she had planned and fought were nothing but a passing memory now. She might not know the details of this war that was no doubt hovering over the wizarding world currently, but she knew from past experiences that the air had that feeling.

Locking herself away would earn her nothing. She needed to learn about this time she was in, she needed to learn about the Order and about this Voldemort. She had to understand to be able to make a difference. She was no help to her father by sitting around and reading. He would be disappointed in her for acting in denial and not stepping up and taking control. He taught her how to be a fighter, not someone to sit on the sidelines.

She loved the wizarding world, and she had fought to make them free, was this really all that different? Last time the Muggles were the enemies, this time it was a wizard.

She turned and looked back at Sirius, nodding her head at him. A small smile graced his features and she let out a small smile of her own.

“You’re right, Black. I need to step up and not hide away from the undeniable truth. Its been 50 years since my involvement in Papa’s revolution. I need to leave the sideline and continue the fight to help my fellow wizards.”

Sirius patted her hands joyfully before standing from the sofa. “Great! Now, are you all packed for Hogwarts? You lot are leaving in the morning; you need to get some rest.”

“Yes, I finished packing everything this morning.” She stood from the sofa herself and neatly folded the blanket that she had draped over her lap. She picked up the book and held it to her chest, “I’ll make sure to put the books back that I borrowed from your library.”

Sirius waved his hand in dismissal. “Keep them if you want, I’ll never read them. I was never one for reading, let alone the stuff my family kept.” He grinned and held an arm out towards the hall, gesturing for her to go first.

They made their way silently up the stairs, stopping when they came to Anya’s door. Before Anya’s could stop herself, she whispered to the man walking away.

“Sirius?”

The man in question turned around and raised a brow at her.

“Thank you”

“Anytime” He said with one more small smile and she walked into her room, feeling lighter than she did earlier in the night.

Morning came far to quickly for the sleep deprived girl. She grumbled to herself for a few moments, before forcing herself to get off the bed and get dressed.

She chose a simple white button down, tight black pants, and a pair of black oxfords. She threw on the long black coat with gold buttons, and built in waistcoat she had bought when she first went shopping with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. The long coat brought a sense of security to Anya. It reminded of her of her father. The coat she originally traveled to this time wearing was neatly folded in her trunk. It was almost a replica of her father’s coat and she didn’t want anyone to get any ideas if they saw it.

She put her hair back into a neat ponytail, only a few small strands framing her face. Her makeup was simply done, and her father’s necklace was securely hanging from her neck inside her shirt, hidden away from view.

Chaos greeted Anya when she walked out of her room. Mrs. Weasley’s screaming seemed to be in competition with Mrs. Black’s portraits howling insults.

“—COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS—”

“—FILTHY HALF-BLOODS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS—”

Anya could only roll her eyes at the pandemonium that seemed to be unleashed in the house. She really hopped that it wasn’t always like this before going to Hogwarts, she didn’t think she could handle it if it was.

Anya quietly made her way downstairs with her trunk, trying to stay unnoticed for as long as possible. She met Sirius eyes from the bottom of the stairs and made her way to the taller man. She observed the room to find that it was currently occupied by herself and Sirius, along with the twins, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley was continuously bobbing into the room franticly.

She didn’t see the trio however, not that she was complaining. She had avoided the three to the best of her abilities, not wanting to suffer through their pretentious behavior at her “possible Death Eater status” as they seemed so inclined to believe.

It seemed as if Mrs. Weasley could read her thoughts about the three 15-year olds not being downstairs.

“WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!” She bellowed and Hermione was the first to come bounding down the creaky staircase.

“Sorry!” The bushy haired girl squeaked at the angry mother and hurried to Ginny with her trunk in tow.

Harry and Ron were quick to follow as well, their clothes looking rumpled and their hair was uncombed and messy. Anya rolled her eyes at their appearances. _‘Couldn’t they at least try to look neat? Are all teenage boys like this?’_

“Come on you lot, we have to meet Tonks” Mrs. Weasley shouted over Mrs. Black continued tirade of insults against the house’s inhabitants. “Leave your trunks, Alastor’s going to deal with the luggage…oh, for heaven’s sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!”

Anya turned to face the man at her side, only to seem him gone and a large black dog in his place. The dog bounded to Harry’s side, jumping over the various trunks that blocked his path. Anya couldn’t help but giggle at the man’s antics.

Everyone soon started to make their way out the front door, starting their journey to wherever they were going. It didn’t occur to Anya till that moment, that she had no idea how they were going to get to Hogwarts.

Once everyone was out of the house and reached the sidewalk, Grimmauld place disappeared like it had never existed. Tonks was quick to greet them all at the corner with a smile and winks.

“We’d better hurry Molly” Tonks said checking her watch.

“I know, I know,” Mrs. Weasley moaned in frustration, “but Mad-Eye wanted to wait for Sturgis…If only Arthur could have got us cars from the Ministry again… but Fudge wouldn’t let him borrow so much as an empty ink bottle these days… How Muggles can stand traveling without magic…” the red-hair woman rambled.

Anya walked behind the twins and Ginny, but in front of Ron, Hermione and Harry and Sirius. Ginny glanced behind her to see Anya walking alone and paused in her step to join the blonde.

“Why are you walking alone?” Ginny asked, and only got a raised eyebrow in return.

“Right, I forgot you have been locked away” Ginny teased and giggled when Anya sent a glare her way.

“Where are we going?” Anya asked lightly. She enjoyed Ginny’s presence more then she did the others. She was still annoying, but at least she didn’t act self-righteous and try and interrogate her like the others.

“We are going to King’s Cross. Its how we get to Hogwarts.” Anya gave the girl a disbelieving look.

“Kings Cross? Isn’t that a Muggle train station?”

“Yeah, but there is a platform for 9 ¾ its where we get on the Hogwarts Express. The Muggles can’t see it.”

Anya nodded thoughtfully, intrigued to see how the platform managed to be hidden from thousands of Muggles that went through the station every day.

The group walked for around twenty minutes before the large station came into view. They made their way inside, and Anya couldn’t help herself but to scowl lightly at being surrounded by the oblivious Muggles.

They were shoving into her from every direction, and she was on the verge of cursing the next one who bumped her into oblivion, before their group stopped between two pillars. She looked around for any sign of the hidden platform, but it all looked normal and Muggle-ish.

She watched as the twins leaned against one of the pillars casually, before they fell into the wall and vanished.

Anya realized that the pillar led to the secret platform, and even though she had been raised around magic, she would never get over how astounding it truly was.

Everyone made their way through the barrier, Anya crossing it with Ginny. The secret platform was filled with parents and student all yelling, the sound of trunks being loaded on the massive red train echoed in the air and Anya could hardly hold in her amazement.

“I hope the others make it in time,” Mrs. Weasley said, staring at the entry way to the platform.

“Nice dog, Harry!” A boy with dreadlocks called to them from a few feet away.

“Thanks, Lee!” Harry called with a smile and Sirius made his excitement known with never-ending wag of his tail.

Moody was quick to join the group with a cart full of everyone’s trunks. Mr. Weasley following quickly behind him, along with Remus.

“I don’t think we were followed. I’ll still be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore, that’s the second time he’s not turned up in a week. Getting as unreliable as Mundungus.” Moody grumbled.

“Well, look after yourselves” Remus gave quick handshakes to the teenagers, patting Harry on the shoulder before coming to stop before Anya.

Remus placed both hands on the girl’s shoulders and looked down at her. “Remember, keep your head down and blend in. Don’t forget to enjoy yourself though, school is an experience that is unforgettable.”

She nodded in thanks as he pulled away, and Moody gave his farewells.

“Don’t forget, all of you – careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don’t put it in a letter at all.”

He turned and pointed at Anya. “You, behave. No spouting about your father or your beliefs around.” She sneered and sent him a blood chilling glare.

“Its been great meeting all of you,” Tonks said and gave Hermione, Ginny and Anya hugs, “We’ll see you soon, I expect.”

A loud whistle sounded, and students started to rush to the train.

“Quick, quick,” Mrs. Weasley gave them all quick hugs, mumbling at them all to write and behave as she went. Sirius stood in his dog form and placed his paws on Harry’s shoulders before Mrs. Weasley pushed the boy away and towards the train. Before Anya could follow Ginny, a wet tongue licked her hand and she looked down to see Sirius.

She gave him a small smile and an affectionate pat before walking into the train.

“Ginny, can I sit with you? I don’t feel like being caught alone as a new student.” Anya asked, and Ginny nodded with a grin.

“Of course!”

Fred and George broke away from the group, and Hermione and Ron were quick to follow in the opposite direction. Anya only caught a brief sentence about ‘prefects’ before they were gone. Harry was left alone, and Ginny made her way to him.

Anya hoped that the redhead wasn’t going to invite the boy to sit with them. Anya didn’t think she could handle being around him for who knows how long they would be stuck on this train.

“Come on,” Ginny gestured to him, “if we get a move on, we’ll be able to save them places.”

And there is was. Anya’s hopes were dashed when the invitation was offered, and he accepted. The three made their way down the corridor, struggling with their trunks in the tight space. Harry seemed to be fighting in front of him at the students staring and pointing at him.

Anya had noticed some of the stares and confused looks directed at her, but she walked with her head high and authority in her step, not letting them get to her. She had fought in war; she could handle measly gossiping teenagers.

They arrived in a carriage towards the end of the train where a tall boy with a dark hair and round face was standing, lightly shinny with sweat and out of breath. No doubt from hauling his trunk up with one hand, his other hand holding onto a toad. “Hi, Harry” He panted. “Hi, Ginny…Every where’s full… I can’t find a seat…”

“What are you talking about?” Ginny peered around the boy and into the compartment behind him. “There’s room in this one, there’s only Loony Lovegood in there—”

Neville murmured about not wanting to disturb her.

“Don’t be silly, she is alright” She said laughing. Ginny went in and put her trunk away, Harry was next, followed by Neville and finally Anya. Anya swiftly placed her trunk on the overhead rack and took a seat next to the window and across from a girl with hair almost as blonde as Anya’s.

Her blonde hair was long and scraggly looking, she had pale skin and pale eyebrows and her eyes so wide that it made her look constantly surprised. She had an air of preoccupation, but Anya knew that could hide intelligent minds. Her wand was tucked behind her ear and she had a necklace made of butterbeer caps, and one the things that caught Anya’s eyes the most, was that the girl was reading her magazine upside down.

The girl started at the new arrivals without blinking, and it placed Anya on edge. She believed that she could take the girl if she attacked, but she didn’t appear aggressive, just odd.

“Have a good summer, Luna?” Ginny asked pleasantly.

“Yes,” Luna said dreamily, not looking away from Harry. “Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. _You’re_ Harry Potter,” she added.

“I know I am,” Harry said uncomfortably.

Neville chuckled and Luna turned her eyes to him and Anya.

“And I don’t know who you two are.”

“I’m nobody” Neville hurriedly said. Anya rolled her eyes at the nervous boy, slightly annoyed with his lack of confidence. Anya had been surrounded by confident and authoritative figures growing up, rarely coming across someone who was as nervous as this boy seemed to be.

“No, you’re not,” Ginny said sharply “Neville Longbottom –Luna Lovegood. Luna’s in my year, but in Ravenclaw.”

“ _Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure_ ,” Luna sung lightly, before turning her focus on Anya.

Anya locked eyes with the girl and held out a steady hand.

“Anastasia Rosier”

Luna delicately shook Anya’s hand before pulling away with a tilt of her head.

“Hungarian? I recognize the accent. My father had a friend from Hungry that used to work on the _Quibbler_ with us.”

“You’re right, most people can’t place my accent on the first try.”

“Are you a new student? What House are you in?” Neville asked her nervously, his face pale after hearing her last name.

“I’m new this year. I don’t know what you mean by my house, however.” Anya responded.

“Everyone gets sorted into a House when they come to Hogwarts. Ravenclaw is for the intelligent, Slytherin is for the cunning, Hufflepuff is for the loyal, and Gryffindor is for the brave.” Ginny explained “Harry, Neville, Hermione, and my brothers and I are all in Gryffindor. Hopefully you will join us there” Ginny added, pride evident in her voice.

Anya nodded absentmindedly. “Perhaps” was all she said and turned to face the window, watching the scenery pass by in a blur.

XXXXXX

**Yayy!! We are finally off to Hogwarts! She will be sorted in the next chapter and things will finally start to pick up. I hope you guys enjoyed and sorry for not posting sooner.**

**Stay safe!**


	8. Chapter 8

** I do not own Harry Potter **

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Anya had her blue eyes locked onto the passing scenery, ignoring the others sitting around her. She wasn’t interested in starting conversations with them. She was only here because she was forced to be. Her time would be spent learning everything she could about the time she was in and about her father’s whereabouts.

She vaguely heard the others conversing but didn’t pay much attention to what they were saying, until she saw the blonde girl staring at her. She met her eyes steadily, showing that she was unafraid of the unbroken eye contact most people would shy away from.

They kept eye contact for a few tense minutes, before Luna turned her eyes towards Potter and the nervous boy. Anya rolled her eyes and once again looked out the window, trying to lose herself in her thoughts.

She couldn’t help the shocked the gasp coming from her lips when she felt something hot splash onto the back of her head. She immediately whipped around with her wand in her hand, ready to retaliate against whatever had attacked her. When she didn’t see anyone else with their wands pointed towards her, she noticed there was a thick, green, horrid smelling liquid that covered the compartment.

Ginny had only gotten some in her hair, Luna manage to escape most of it as well while Potter and Longbottom seemed to have gotten the worst, with their faces full of the mysterious liquid.

“What the hell?” Anya spat at Neville, who was holding onto a plant and had a rather guilty expression on his face.

“I-I’m sorry! I haven’t tried it before! I didn’t think it would explode the way it did! It’s only a Stinksap, so it’s not poisonous.” He quickly explained, while Potter spit a mouthful onto the floor.

Anya was ready to hex him when the compartment door opened. “Oh…hello, Harry. Is it a bad time?” A dark-haired girl was standing at the door, a nervous expression on her pale face. Anya briefly acknowledge the girl’s presence before she waved her wand to clean herself, Ginny, Luna and the compartment of the stinky mess, leaving the boys still covered in it.

Harry switched the toad he was holding into one hand and used his now empty one to clean his glasses before responding, “Oh…hi.”

“Um…well just thought I’d say hello… bye, then” She closed the door and quickly departed. Anya scuffed and turned to face Ginny with an unimpressed look on her face.

“Are all of you Hogwarts students so nervous? I’ve met two now outside of your family that have the demeanor of a dandelion.” She said with a pointed look in Neville’s direction, causing a blush to erupt on his cheeks.

“That’s Cho Change, she’s only like that because she’s got a crush on Harry. Be nice to Neville though, he means well.” Ginny scolded Anya with a slight giggle.

Harry seemed to finally realize that him and Neville were the only one’s still covered in the Stinksap, and he looked around confused. “Where’d it all goes? Why is it still on us?”

“I scourgified it. I didn’t feel like cleaning the two of you though, figured you could do it yourselves.” Anya said with a hint of attitude, causing Harry to glare at the girl.

Before he could open his mouth to respond, Ginny spoke, “Never mind that. Look, I can clean it off easily. _Scourgify_!”

“Sorry” Neville once again apologized quietly. Anya rolled her eyes and went back to ignoring the others sitting around her. It was nearly an hour before the compartment was opened again, this time it being Ron and Hermione.

Ron placed Pigwidgeon on the rack next to Hedwig, before throwing himself into the seat between Harry and Anya, resulting the girl’s shoulder being shoved into the wall. She scowled at the red head but decided to save herself an argument and turned to face Hermione who had sat between Ginny and the wall closest to the door.

“Guess who the Slytherin prefect is?” Ron said, with his eyes closed.

“Malfoy,” Harry replied quickly.

“’Course,” Ron responded bitterly, eating a chocolate frog that had been given to him.

Anya raised her eyebrow at the name. Malfoy? They were some of her father’s supporters in England. Maybe they could be allies to her? However, she remembered that they were never open about their support; the Blacks easily overshadowed them when it came to acknowledging her father’s efforts.

“And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson,” Hermione added viciously. “How she got to be a prefect when she’s thicker than a concussed troll…”

“What’s a prefect?” Anya added before they could keep going on about Malfoy and Parkinson. Everyone turned to look at her. Luna only glanced before turning to her magazine, Ginny looked like she was going to giggle, Hermione looked affronted and Ron and Harry looked at her like she was a complete idiot, Neville kept his eyes away from Anya’s direction.

“You don’t know what a prefect is? How thick are you?” Ron asked nastily, causing Anya to shoot him a cold glare. “In case you forgot, Weasley. I was homeschooled.” Her voice was cold and sharp.

“Should have probably stayed that way…” He muttered, turning away from her.

“Ronald!” Hermione snapped at the boy before turning to look at Anya. “Prefects are fifth years that are given responsibilities by their Heads of Houses. We get some authority over other students who are breaking the rules. One boy and one girl get chosen from every house.”

Anya nodded, showing that she understood. Before she could turn away again, Hermione’s cat jumped from the curly haired girl’s lap and into Anya’s. Anya was quick to pet the cat and wrap him in her arms. She had grown close to the orange feline during her stay at Grimmauld place.

“Who’s Hufflepuff?” Harry asked, starting up the conversation from where it had left off.

“Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott,” Ron said.

“And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw,” Hermione said.

“You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil,” Luna’s breathy voiced added. Her eyes were locked onto Ron who was eating another frog.

“Yeah, I know I did,” He said with a surprised look on his face. “She didn’t enjoy it very much,” Luna informed him. “She doesn’t think you treated her very well, because you wouldn’t dance with her. I don’t think I’d have minded; I don’t like dancing very much.”

She went back to reading _The Quibbler_ again, leaving Ron with his mouth open and then looking towards his sister for an explanation, only to be met with her giggles.

Anya snorted in amusement, but he actively ignored her which she didn’t mind. He checked his watch before speaking again. “We’re supposed to patrol the corridors every so often,” He informed the boys sitting next to him, “and we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can’t wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something…”

“You’re not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!” Hermione said sharply.

“Yeah, right, because Malfoy won’t abuse it at all,” said Ron sarcastically.

“So, you’re going to descend to his level?”

“No, I’m just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine.”

“For heaven’s sake, Ron—”

“I’ll make Goyle do lines, it’ll kill him, he hates writing,” said Ron with a smile. He lowered his voice into a low grunt, imitating this Goyle they talked about, Anya assumed.

_“I… must…not…look…like...a…baboon’s…. backside…”_

Everyone around Anya laughed, and she had to fight a smile herself. Luna seemed to be the one who laughed the hardest, which caused Hedwig to wake up and start flapping her wings and Crookshanks hissed from his place on Anya’s lap.

Luna’s magazine fell from her lap onto the floor as she wrapped her arms around her stomach. “That was funny!”

Ron was looking at her oddly, off put by her prolonged laughter. “Are you mocking me?” Ron asked with a frown.

“Baboon’s…backside!” She choked out.

Everyone was staring at the cackling girl, but it didn’t escape Anya’s eyes how Harry have dived and quickly grabbed with magazine Luna had dropped.

“Can I have a look at this?” Harry asked the blonde who was calming down from her laughter. Harry seemed to be engrossed in whatever he was reading, but Anya was unable to get a glance at it, and she was too proud to ask if she could look.

“Anything good in there?” Ron asked as Harry closed the magazine. “Of course not,” Hermione said scathingly, “The Quibbler’s rubbish, everyone knows that.”

“Excuse me,” Luna said sharply, “My father’s the editor.”

“I— oh,” Hermione’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Well… it’s got some interesting… I mean, it’s quite…” She stumbled over her words, unable to come up with something to say to make up for her previous insult.

“I’ll have it back, thank you,” Luna said coldly, before snatching it out of Harry’s grip. She opened it, turned it upside down once more and was once again lost in the text.

“The compartment door opened for a third time, and Anya was starting to get annoyed with the constant visits. Would this be another spineless student as well?

A tall, blonde male was standing in the doorway. He was thin looking but had broad shoulders. His face was pale, and his features were sharp. Anya couldn’t help the small eyebrow raise when she looked at him, he was attractive. The same couldn’t be said for the two giants, oaf looking boys standing behind him, however.

“What?” Harry spat before the blonde could open his mouth.

“Manners, Potter, or I’ll have to give you a detention,” drawled the boy. “You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which mean that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments.”

“Yeah, but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone.” Harry said.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville all laughed as the boy’s lips curled into a sneer.

“Tell me, how does it feel to being second-best to Weasley, Potter?” the boy asked.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Hermione spat.

“I seem to have touched a nerve,” the blonde, who Anya now knew as Malfoy said with a smirk. “Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I’ll be _dogging_ your footsteps in case you step out of line.” 

“You Brits sure are proud of this prefect status.” Anya interjected. Malfoy’s eyes sharply looked at her and his face was suddenly filled with interest.

“Oh? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I’m Draco Malfoy” He took a step into the compartment and held out a hand. Anya stood gracefully and reached to take his hand in a firm shake.

“Anastasia Rosier.”

Malfoy’s blonde brow cocked arrogantly. “Rosier? What’s a pureblood like you doing sitting with these Gryffindor rift-raft? You’re too pretty to be sitting here, you should join my friends and I in my compartment.”

Anya tried to pull her hand away from his, but he had a firm grasp on it. “My stuff is already situated in here. I don’t feel like moving all of it. Besides, the girls aren’t so bad to be around.” Anya said blankly.

Malfoy’s lips turned to a sneer once more, some confusion lacing his eyes. “You’re okay sitting with a Weasley and a Mudblood? Are you sure you’re a Rosier?”

“Mudblood? You’re one of those types? What a waste. Magical blood is magical blood, no matter where it comes from.” She responded.

Malfoy released her hand and took a step back. “I’m sure your mind will change once you are sorted into Slytherin with your fellow purebloods. I’ll be seeing you around Rosier.” Malfoy left with one last glare at the others sitting in the compartment, while Anya retook her seat.

Everyone stared at her with varied looks of confusion. She raised a brow and couldn’t help but ask, “Why are you all staring at me?”

Hermione was the first to speak up, “You defended me against being called a Mudblood. Why?”

Anya rolled her eyes and crossed her legs. “You’re a witch, are you not? It doesn’t matter what your blood status is so long as you have magic. Papa always said magic blooms in those with special souls. Why deny a potential ally because of something as petty as blood? It’s a waste of time and a bad strategy.” She reasoned.

“Most Rosier’s are pretty big on the blood supremacy here, I’m surprised your parents weren’t.” Ginny said.

“My mother was a Rosier and was a supporter of blood supremacy. I take my views after my father.”

“Who was your father?” Hermione asked.

Anya shrugged in response, refusing to answer verbally.

“You’ll probably end up in Slytherin anyways. Your personality screams Slytherin.” Ron said with a frown.

“You have spoken only a few sentences from me. That’s hardly enough for you to understand my personality. But perhaps, I will be Slytherin. Is that so bad?” Anya asked, the corner of her lips tilting down.

“Yeah, it is. Slytherin is full of gits and their families are all followers of You-Know-Who. Anyone who gets sorted into Slytherin is evil.” Ron spat.

“I doubt that a school would sort kids into an ‘evil’ house. It’s likely a matter of different perspectives” Anya argued.

Before Ron could continue the argument, Hermione cleared her throat and sent Ron a withering look, causing him to slump into his seat and turned to Harry.

“Chuck me another Frog.” Still pouting as he opened the newly caught chocolate frog and moodily biting into it. Anya rolled her eyes before once again turning to stare out the window.

It was raining now; unlike the sunny weather it had been when they first boarded that morning. Anya had always enjoyed the rain growing up. Her Papa would sometimes take her outside and let her chase him through the rain when he had the rare moment to spare. Her mother always hated it when Anya would come back inside wherever they had been stationed at, with soaking wet hair, and clothes covered in mud.

It rained for an hour, before the sun managed to break through the clouds and graced the sprawling land with bright afternoon light for a few moments, before the clouds covered it once more.

The others had been chatting quietly to each other and had left Anya alone for the most part. Ginny had tried to involve the girl into some conversation, but Anya would only respond with short answers, or not at all.

“We’d better get changed,” Hermione said, addressing everyone. Because there were more girls in the compartment, the boys agreed to let the girls use room to change while they went to the restroom.

Anya found the uniform unflattering but not uncomfortable. She had never been one for skirts, finding pants always easier to maneuver in. Her mother always complained about how unlady-like Anya was, but her Papa had always put down any arguments on the matter. He knew it was more practical for her to wear pants, and always encouraged it. Often getting her clothes tailored in similar styles as his own.

When the boys returned, Hermione and Ron pinned their new prefect badges. Ron taking the chance to admire it in the window’s reflection.

Finally, the train started to slow down, and Anya felt the unfamiliar nervous flutter in her stomach. She tried to fight down the feeling, remembering the lessons her father gave her. He always spoke about how a leader should never show their nervousness, they had to show a strong face to prove to others that they were not someone to underestimate, but they should never look arrogant.

She took a deep breath and followed the others out of the compartment and down the narrow hallways of the train, fighting against the other students trying to make their way out. Hermione and Ron were quickly lost from the group, not that Anya was worried. The only one she was concerned with keeping in her sight was Ginny. They had subsequently left their pets in the care of the group, and Anya was quick to take hold of Crookshanks.

“I’ll carry that owl, if you like,” Luna said to Harry, reaching for the brown owl that belonged to the Weasley’s.

“Oh, thanks,” He said, handing over the cage and adjusting his own cage higher in his arms.

Ginny grabbed Anya’s empty hand, causing Anya to jump and look at the girl weirdly. Ginny giggled at the look before speaking.

“If you get lost, who knows where you will end up. You will want to get there in time for the sorting!”

Anya nodded and their group walked off the train, the scent of pine and fresh air hit Anya immediately and she couldn’t help but relax her shoulders at the calming smell of nature.

“First years line up over here, please! All first years to me!” A brisk, female voice broke through some of the commotion, a lantern light coming from where the voice came from.

“Where’s Hagrid?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know,” Ginny responded, “but we’d better get out of the way, we’re blocking the door.”

“Oh yeah…”

Ginny turned to Anya, “You might want to talk to Grubbly-Plank since even though you aren’t a first year, its still technically your first year. She might let you ride the boats across the lake.”

Anya shook her head, “No, thanks. I’d prefer to stay with you.” Ginny smiled and dragged her along the platform, stopping to say ‘hello’ to people she knew. Ginny would briefly introduce Anya, but she was only met with odd looks.

The soon made it off the platform and saw the trio in front of them. They were standing in front of carriages with Thestrals hooked to them. Anya had always found the creatures to be fascinating with their strange looks. They had dragonish heads, their eyes were pure white with no pupil, and their wings were black and leathery like a bat. She had only seen them in person once before, when her and her Papa had come across them in the woods surrounding their stronghold. All the other times, she had seen the ghostly figure of them as her Papa’s Patronus.

As they got closer to the trio, Crookshanks squirmed a bit in Anya’s arms, wanting to be in Hermione’s hold again. Hermione took the ginger cat from Anya gratefully with a quick “thanks.”

“Come on, let’s get a carriage together before they all fill up…”

“I haven’t got Pig yet!” Ron said, but Hermione was already walking to the nearest unoccupied coach with Ginny and Anya. The boys and Luna joined them moments later, Harry with a peculiar look on his face. Anya was curious as to what might have caused the boy to have such a look, but she didn’t feel like causing a possible argument with the boy by asking.

“Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?” asked Ginny. “What’s she doing back here? Hagrid can’t have left, can he?”

“I’ll be quite glad if he has,” Luna responded. “He isn’t a very good teacher, is he?”

“Yes, he is!” Harry, Ron and Ginny all spat angrily.

Hermione’s reluctant agreement joining when Harry shot her sharp look.

“Well, we think he’s a bit of a joke in Ravenclaw,” Luna said simply, unfazed by their anger.

“You’ve got a rubbish sense of humor then,” Ron snapped as the carriage started moving.

Luna started at him for a few moments, before humming and opening her magazine. Anya found the sway of the carriage calming, staring into the darkness of the forest around them.

They passed stone pillars that were crumbled and some toppled, before the castle loomed over them. Anya had seen the castle once before, when she had first been sent her by her father, but this time she was truly able to acknowledge the beauty the old structure held.

It was a magnificent structure, its stone walls and high pointed roofs reminded her of the storybook castles she would see in books. Its thousands of windows were lit with golden light, looking like stars against the dark night.

The carriages halted near stone steps, leading to the large oak doors Anya had walked through covered in mud, earlier in the summer. The group started to file out of the carriage, while Harry stared off into the distance.

“Are you coming or what?” Ron asked as he went to follow the girls out.

“Oh…yeah” Harry said, and they all hurried into the castle.

The entrance hall was full of torches and the echoes of footsteps was almost deafening to Anya’s ears. How many students attended this school?

Before the group could enter a large dinning hall, they were stopped by McGonagall’s voice calling for Anya.

“Rosier!”

The girl in question turned to where the older woman was briskly walking towards them, her face in a stern frown.

Anya nodded her head in a polite greeting as McGonagall stopped before her.

“You will be the first sorted. Its unprecedented to have a student join Hogwarts so late in their school years, but your case is an exception. If you will follow me.” McGonagall said, motioning for the girl.

Anya nodded before letting go of Ginny’s hand and walking behind the woman with her head held high.

“I hope to see you in Gryffindor Anya!” Ginny shouted from behind.

The hall was lined with four grand, wooden tables. Each with their respective House banners hanging above them. The celling was one of the most gorgeous sights Anya had ever seen. It was bewitched to look like the night sky, with a scattering of wispy clouds and glittering starts. Amongst the starts were thousands of floating candles that provided the hall with light.

At the very front of the room, was another long table set upon a dais. There were multiple adults sitting along the table, some of which she recognized from Grimmauld’s Place. She met the bright blue eyes of Dumbledore in the center, and she couldn’t help but straighten her back, keeping eye contact the whole way she followed McGonagall to the front.

The stopped in front of the first years, Anya assumed. The eleven-year olds were gathered in between the two center tables near the front.

Anya observed that most of them were pale in, what should only assume was fear or nervousness. Would she have been a fearful child if she would have attended school? These children were so…normal. She would never change her upbringing, but she couldn’t help the fleeting curiosity as to what life might have been like if she would have attended Hogwarts like any other witch.

McGonagall left Anya, before walking up the steps to the dais, placing a three-legged stool in the center with a very old, and ragged hat perched upon it.

Anya looked at the hat, trying to find a reason as to why it was important, before to her astonishment, it grew a face and started to sing.

_“In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted;_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world’s best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

_“Together we will build and teach!”_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might someday be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, “We’ll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is purest.”_

_Said Ravenclaw, “We’ll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest.”_

_Said Gryffindor, “We’ll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name,”_

_Said Hufflepuff, “I’ll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same.”_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A House in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For Instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus, the Houses and their founders_

_Retained friendships firm and true._

_So, Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

_The Houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once help up our school,_

_Now turned up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet and early end,_

_What with dueling and with fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the Houses been united?_

_As they were once meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score;_

_I sort you into Houses_

_Because that is what I’m for,_

_But this year I’ll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song;_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it’s wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether sorting_

_May not bring the end, I fear._

_Oh, know the peril, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unit inside her_

_Or we’ll crumble from within._

_I have told you; I have warned you…_

_Let the Sorting now begin.”_

Anya raised a brow at the song the old hat had just sung. Did Hogwarts always start its years with such ominous words? Anya decided to tuck the song in her head, the lyrics leaving an unsettling feeling deep in her gut. Her mind remembering the little bit of information she had been told by the Order about Voldemort and his followers. Was this hat warning them all about him?

Dumbledore stood and raised a hand to silence the whispers that filled the hall about the old hat’s song.

“Before Professor McGonagall begins reading the names of the first years, our Sorting Ceremony will be slightly different. This year, we have a late student joining us. She was home-schooled before this, but she is now joining us here at Hogwarts as a fifth year. I hope you all will make her feel welcomed. Miss. Anastasia Rosier, if you would.” He said, and smiled at the girl, motioning towards the stool.

She took confident steps up the dais and walked with pride. She could hear the whispers and confusion among the students.

“A fifth-year?”

“Has Hogwarts ever had a student join late before?”

“She looks mean”

“She is so pretty!”

Anya turned sharply on her heel as she reached the stool, before gracefully sitting on it with perfect posture. She kept her eyes locked on the doors, not letting her nerves show on her face. She was determined to hold strong and show everyone the imagine of the leader her Papa had taught her to be.

McGonagall placed the hat onto Anya’s head, and the brim just barely covered her vision. Anya could feel her breath stop as its voice echoed in her head.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Annnnnndddddd I just did that, I’m so sorry!**

**I feel like a nice cliffhanger is nice occasionally. I already have the next chapter started so it should be posted within a week of this once. I won’t make you all wait months again, especially when you are all about to find out what house she is going to be sorted into! I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Anya was surprised, that with how old the hat looked, that it didn’t have an old, musty smell. It, thankfully, smelled fresh. Anya would have hated to wear a hundred-year-old hat that had touch the heads of who knows how many slimy and sticky little kids.

 _“Ah, a Grindelwald. I’ve never had the honor of sorting someone of your blood before. You are **his** daughter, how interesting…” _that hat said in her mind.

Anya narrowed her eyes, unsure of how that hat knew about her parentage. Could it read her mind?

_“Yes, I can read your mind. I can see your thoughts, memories, and what makes you the person you are. It’s how I decide where to sort everyone. Now, where should I put a fascinating girl like you?”_

_“I wish to be placed where I will have the greatest chance to rejoin my father. I want to take up his mantle.”_ Anya thought to the hat.

 _“Oh? You want to take up his legacy? How ambitious of you. Yes, I see lots and lots of ambition, but is it truly your own? I see a sharp and cunning mind, one perfect for Slytherin. I see a strong intelligence, and thirst for knowledge. However, Ravenclaw wouldn’t be good for you. No, you are too driven.”_ The hat mused.

_“Hufflepuff would be a mistake to place you in. No, you do not have a pure enough heart for that house. Gryffindor, perhaps? I see the bravery. Deep underneath the shrewdness, and ambition that has been forced upon you, I see a daring soul. You are meant for greater things then following your father’s beliefs. You have the heart of someone who could lead armies to victory, and the courage to fight with them. Yes, I know where to put you…”_

Anya held her breath, she could feel the anger coursing through her veins at the hat’s dismissal of her dreams. They weren’t forced on her! She held them as firmly as her father did! She had been born to help achieve his dream and to continue it! How dare this hat say that it was false? Her existence was solely to fight for the greater good!

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat was pulled off her head, and she couldn’t help but squint at the sudden light assaulting her vision. She turned to look up at McGonagall who gave her a small smile before nodding towards the cheering Gryffindor house. She immediately caught sight of Ginny and the Weasley twins standing and cheering for her placement into their House.

She walked to the House table and took a seat between Ginny and Hermione.

“How did you not get sorted into Slytherin? Aren’t you a Rosier?” Ron said with a sneer as she sat.

“Ronald!” Hermione scolded.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t judge someone for their surname, Weasley. I told you before, you haven’t talked to me enough to have an opinion on my character.” Anya said, still feeling miffed about what the hat had said.

“You will look much better in red- “

“-then you ever would have green, Rosier!” The twins said with a teasing grin towards to girl.

Before anymore could be said, McGonagall cleared her throat and held up a scroll, announcing the first name on it.

“Abercrombie, Euan.”

A dark-haired boy with very prominent ears, sat on the stool and the hat was placed on his head.

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

Anya clapped politely with the other Gryffindors and the boy staggered to their table and sat down, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow his entire being.

Slowly, but surely, the group of first years was sorted. Anya could feel the subtle hunger pains in her stomach, and she could even hear Ron’s stomach grumble during the brief pauses between names.

The final student was sorted into Hufflepuff, and McGonagall took away the stool and the hat as Dumbledore stood from his seat once again.

“To our newcomers,” The old Headmaster said, his voice ringing through the hall, arms stretch and a bright smile on his wrinkled face. “Welcome! To our old hands – welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!”

As soon as the words left his lips, various plates of food appeared along the center of the table in front of Anya. She blinked at the sudden arrival of food, but quickly schooled her features into a neutral setting.

“Excellent,” Ron groaned, as he reached for the nearest plate of chops and piled some onto his plate, being watched wistfully by a renaissance looking ghost.

“What were you saying before the Sorting?” Hermione asked the ghost. Anya delicately reached for some roasted chicken, and a mixture of vegetables, keeping her ears open to the conversation.

“Oh yes,” The ghost said, turning away from Ron who was now stuffing his face. “Yes, I have heard that the hat gives several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same; Stand together, be strong from within.”

“Ow kunnit nofe skusin gander ifzat?” Ron said around a mouthful of food, causing Anya and Hermione to look at him with disgust.

“I beg your pardon?” Said the ghost.

“How can it know if the school’s in danger if it’s a hat?” Ron repeated, having swallowed his food.

“I have no idea,” said the ghost. “Of course, it lives in Dumbledore’s office, so I daresay it picks things up there.”

“And it wants all the Houses to be friends?” Harry said, looking over to the Slytherin table. “Fat chance.”

“You should learn to find common ground with enemies. If your hat is warning you of dark times you should take precaution and build a collection of allies. Even if they are enemies.” Anya said, recalling her lessons in strategy from her Papa.

Everyone turned to look at the girl, who was putting a spoonful of veggies into her mouth.

“Gryffindors would never team up with those Slytherin gits. We are enemy Houses for a reason.” Ron said.

“You speak wisely girl; you are the new fifth year, aren’t you? I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, and I am the ghost of Gryffindor House.” The ghost introduced himself, bowing at the waist, his head tearing away from 90% of his neck at the motion.

“Anastasia Rosier” She nodded politely in return to his bow, trying not to show her disgust at his nearly decapitated state.

“We’ve never had a Rosier in Gryffindor before.” Sir Nicholas said curiously.

“So, I’ve heard.” She responded dryly, turning back to her food.

“Miss. Rosier here was right. If you have that attitude the Houses will never work together.” Sir Nicholas said reprovingly. “Peaceful cooperation, that’s the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate Houses, maintain links of friendship. Despite the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron.”

“Only because you’re terrified of him,” Ron said.

Sir Nicholas gave him an affronted look before responding. “Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins—”

“What blood?” Ron asked. “Surely you haven’t still got—?"

“It’s a figure of speech!” Sir Nicholas spat, his head trembling on his neck from annoyance. “I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whatever words I like, even if the pleasures of eating and drinking have denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!”

“Nick, he wasn’t really laughing at you!” Hermione said, throwing Ron a nasty look.

Ron had already re-stuffed his face full of food and was unable to respond with coherent words. Sir Nick straightened his feathered hat with a huff before floating away to rest between two similar looking Gryffindor students.

“Well done, Ron,” snapped Hermione.

“What?” Ron said indignantly, after swallowing his food. “I’m not allowed to ask a question?”

“Oh, forget it,” Hermione went back to her meal.

“Your question was rude.” Anya added, getting a nasty look from Ron.

“No one asked you!”

“Don’t be a git Ron!” Ginny snapped, coming to Anya’s defense.

The group fell into silence, when it was clear Hermione wasn’t going to talk anymore, and Harry didn’t seem to be inclined to start any conversations either. Ginny and Anya talked quietly between themselves, with Ginny telling Anya a little bit about the Gryffindor common room, dorms, and some of the other students sitting around them.

When everyone had finished eating, and the noise started to pick up again, Dumbledore rose to his feet for a third time that night. The talking immediately ceased as everyone turned their attention to their Headmaster.

“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I need a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,” Dumbledore said. “First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students—and a few our older students ought to know by now too.” Anya noticed the smirks that Harry, Ron and Hermione all sent to each other, and raised a single brow at the trio.

“Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch’s office door.”

Anya turned to Ginny, “Who’s Mr. Filch?” she whispered.

“He’s the grouchy old caretaker here. He is a nasty man always trying to get students in trouble. You’ll see him around school all the time. Best to avoid him.” Anya nodded at the answer, turning her attention back to Dumbledore’s speech.

“We have two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our New Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

There was a round of polite applause, but it was noticeably unenthusiastic in Anya’s opinion.

Dumbledore continued, “Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the—”

An obnoxiously sweet _“hem, hem”_ interrupted the old man’s words. Dumbledore turned to look inquiringly at Professor Umbridge, who was now standing from her seat. She repeated her _“hem, hem”_ making it clear to everyone that she intended to give a speech of her own.

Dumbledore’s look of shock was caught by Anya and she spoke quietly, to the group, not caring who answered.

“Is it normal for your Professors to interrupt your Headmaster as he speaks?”

“No” Harry was the one to respond, much to Anya’s surprise.

Anya watched as Dumbledore sat back down and watched Professor Umbridge with alertness. Anya’s eyes shifted to the other professors to see their reactions and she was met with ones of varying shock.

McGonagall’s lips were thinner then Anya had ever seen them before, the stoutly woman, with curly white hair, had her eyebrows hidden beneath her flyaway hair, and Professor Snape was starting at the woman dressed in pink like she was a foreign creature he had never come across before.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Professor Umbridge said, “for those kind words of welcome.” Her voice was high-pitch and breathy, and it reminded Anya of a little girl.

“Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!” She smiled, revealing pointed teeth. “And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!”

Anya and the others looked around to see if anyone truly did look happy. They were quick to realize that everyone seemed to share the same thoughts as they did. Everyone was taken aback by being addressed like they were young children.

“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I’m sure we’ll be very good friends!”

Anya exchanged a look with Ginny. Her mind whirling, distrust settling in her gut as she continued to listen to this woman. Her sweetness was obviously faked, and it put Anya on edge. She wasn’t unfamiliar with people putting on an act, her Papa had taught her to see past illusions and to never trust someone after meeting them the first few times.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat once more, this time the breathiness vanishing from her voice and being replaced with a more straight forward and business-like tone.

“The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lost them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.”

Professor Umbridge paused and gave a small bow to the other staff members, none of whom responded. If anything, Professor McGonagall looked like a bird of prey ready to strike. Professor Umbridge gave another _“hem, hem”_ and continued her speech.

“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts had brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…”

Anya could hear the students around her giggling, no doubt joking about the pink woman standing before them all. Anya didn’t understand how none of them were taking this seriously. This woman was essentially claiming control over this school, and the students were acting like nothing was going on.

Anya shoulders were locked in tension, knowing that this woman was part of the Ministry. The exact institution she was trying to avoid. She would have to be extra careful in her research about her father now, least this woman starts making connections or gets any ideas about Anya’s identity.

Anya glanced at Dumbledore, wondering if the man knew about Umbridge coming to work as a professor when he informed Anya that she would become a student. He was the first to suggest hiding her from the Ministry, so why allow the proximity? Was he lying? Was this an elaborate set up for Anya to be discovered and arrested for her crimes in the past?

No, her father had sent her to Hogwarts that night for a reason and she had to trust that.

“…because some changes will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.”

Umbridge finished her speech and sat back down in her seat. Dumbledore was the first to clap, with the staff following and the students reluctantly following. Dumbledore stood once the unenthusiastic clapping had stopped and addressed the hall once more.

“Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,” He said, giving her a small bow. “Now—as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held…”

“Yes, it certainly was illuminating,” Hermione said quietly.

“You’re not telling me you enjoyed it?” Ron turned his glazed eyes towards the curly haired girl. “That was the dullest speech I’ve ever heard, and I grew up with Percy.”

“I said illuminating, not enjoyable,” She said. “It explained a lot.”

“Did it?” Harry said with surprise, and Anya rolled her eyes at his obliviousness. “Sounded like a toad of waffle to me.”

“There was some important stuff hidden in the waffle,” Hermione’s voice was grim, and she looked towards Anya who was nodding with a stern face.

“You agree with me, Anastasia?” Hermione said with surprise.

Anya nodded before answering, “Her tone was very telling, as were the words she chose. She is making it clear that she intends to assert outside influences into this school, whether it be hers or your Ministries, I don’t know. I know that she isn’t what she seems, her body language is stiff, and she is forcing the ‘sweet’ demeanor to an unbelievable extreme.”

Hermione nodded in agreement, turning to the boys again. “How about ‘progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged’? How about ‘pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited’?”

“Well, what does that mean?” Ron asked impatiently.

“It’s just like what Anastasia said, it means the Ministry’s interfering at Hogwarts.” Hermione said, looking back towards Umbridge at the professors’ table.

Loud clattering and banging erupted in the hall as Dumbledore dismissed everyone and the students clamored to leave the hall. Hermione jumped up, a flustered look at her face as she turned to Ron.

“Ron, we’re supposed to show the first years where to go!”

“Oh yeah,” He said, clearly having forgot. “Hey—hey you lot! Midgets!”

_“Ron!”_

“Well, they are, they’re titchy…”

Even though Anya found the red-head annoying, she couldn’t help but smirk in amusement at his nickname for the first-year students.

“I know, but you can’t call them midgets…. First-years!” Hermione called along the table. “This way, please!”

The groups of first years shyly walked by them, and Anya tried her best to ignore them, trying to find Ginny in the crowd. Anya felt annoyance shot through her when she couldn’t find the red-haired girl, or anyone familiar for that matter. The only one she recognized around her was Harry.

She weighed her options, she could tag along with the boy, who clearly didn’t seem to like her, to find where the common room was, or she could sacrifice some pride and follow along with the first years. She chose to go to Harry.

As she walked towards the green-eyed boy, she couldn’t help but notice the way two of the new first years who sent horrified and frightened looks towards Harry. She caught the smile slide off his face, as she reached his side.

“They seem to fear you, Potter. Why? You don’t seem very frightening to me.”

Harry spun around at her voice and narrowed his eyes when he saw her standing next to him.

“It’s none of your business, Rosier.” He said.

“Perhaps not, just curious.” She shrugged.

Anya followed him as he walked out the hall and she caught him sending glances her way, but she chose to ignore them.

“Why are you following me?” He asked with furrowed brows.

“We are in the same House, and I don’t know how to get to the common room. You were the only one around I recognized, so I figured I would follow you.”

“Why didn’t you go with Hermione and Ron?”

“I didn’t want to tag along with children. I didn’t want to sacrifice my pride.”

Harry scuffed at her response but said nothing more about her following him. They hurried up multiple moving staircases that were carved from fine marble. They made it to the seventh floor and walk down a couple corridors before coming across a portrait of a large lady, that was covered with grape vines and various flowers.

“Er…” Harry said, staring at the portrait, before sparing a glance at Anya, who was observing the other paintings around them.

“No password, no entrance,” The woman on the portrait said.

“Harry, I know it!” A familiar voice came from behind the two, and they turned around to see Neville jogging towards them. “Guess what it is? I’m actually going to be able to remember it for once—” He waved the little cactus that had caused the smelly commotion on the train at them before continuing. _“Mimbulus mimbletonia!”_

“Correct,” The painting said, her portrait swinging open like a door, revealing a hole in the wall that Anya followed the two boys in cautiously.

Anya was greeted with a circular room that was full of cozy looking red armchairs and couches, there were bookshelves lining some of the walls, and some old tables were scattered around the room. There was a large fireplace, a fire already lit and crackling. Anya noticed the twins pinning something to a board by the door.

Anya couldn’t help but feel comforted by the room, the only thing that ruined it was knowing she had to share it with dozens of other students. She notices some of the other Gryffindors staring at her, and whispering to their friends, no doubt curious about her abrupt acceptance to the school.

Anya maneuvered herself closer to the fire, keeping an eye out for either Ginny or Hermione, since Harry and Neville had left her to go up a set of spiral of stairs.

She quickly caught sight of Hermione coming through the entrance with Ron and the first years.

“Now this is the Gryffindor common room. The password changes often so be sure to check the board to see if it has changed. Boys! Ron will show you to your dorms, and ill show the girls to theirs. Get some sleep and be prepared for classes tomorrow!” Hermione said, and Ron led the boys to the same staircase Harry had gone up seconds before.

Anya walked over to Hermione, quickly catching her attention.

“Oh! I was wondering where you had gone off too. Follow me to show the first-years their dorm and then we can go to ours.” Hermione said, leading them to another staircase next to the boy one.

Hermione quickly got the first years settled before she motioned for Anya to follow her up a few more levels until they came to a door that was labeled 5th year girls.

Hermione opened the door and allowed Anya to walk in before her. Anya noticed the circular room was full of four poster beds with red curtains hanging from the top. Each bed had a trunk placed at the foot of them, and pet cages were placed on top or on the beds.

Anya noticed two girls already in the room and sitting on one of the beds, their heads bowed to each other as they whispered and laughed with each other. Anya recognized them as two of the girls Ginny had pointed out to her at dinner; Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.

Anya quickly searched for her trunk, finding it placed by the bed next to Hermione.

She noticed a door leading off the room and assumed it was a joined bathroom. Anya bent down and opened her trunk to find some sleepwear that she had bought when she went shopping with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.

“Rosier right?” An unfamiliar voice broke through the air and Anya turned towards where the two girls had sat.

“Yes.” Anya answered simply, watching as the girls shared a glance with each other.

“Why weren’t you sorted into Slytherin? That’s where most pure bloods go, especially ones with families like yours.”

Anya sighed heavily through her nose, already fed up with the comments about her family name and her ‘supposed blood purity attitude’. Is this all these students cared about? There were far more important things to think.

“I’m not from the English branch of Rosiers, I’m from the French branch, so I don’t know what you mean when you say, ‘a family like mine.’ If all you Hogwarts students are so worried about someone’s family name, how do any of you think you will make functioning adults in wizarding society? You should be more worried about your futures, not someone’s name.” Anya said, turning back to her trunk.

She heard the girl choke on her spit, clearly not expecting Anya to speak to her like that.

“Excuse me?” Lavender spat.

Anya ignored her, uninterested in continuing a conversation with the girl.

“Don’t ignore me! Just because you are a special case for coming to Hogwarts, doesn’t mean you are going to get special treatment! We can only guess what you have done to transfer so late.” Lavender giggled patronizingly.

Anya continued to ignore her, she could see Hermione shifting uncomfortably from the corner of her eye, clearly not knowing if she should step in or not.

“You could be a wanna-be Death Eater like your family, and that’s why Dumbledore brought you here.” Lavender asked haughtily, causing Anya to slam her trunk closed when she found her pajamas and bath stuff.

“You English wizards and your accusations of people being Death Eaters. All you know of me is my name and you assume I follow your modern-day Dark Wizard? Don’t make me laugh, girl. From what I have heard about this Dark Lord you all seem to fear, is that his revolution is illegitimate and holds no solid ambition. My father taught me better then to follow a mad-man obsessed with the idea of blood-purity and nothing else. So, please, don’t accuse me of supporting such an unstable fanatic.” Anya said coolly, glaring into Lavender’s eyes.

Before Lavender or Parvati could speak, Anya turned to Hermione who was looking at her with calculating look.

“Is the door over there a bathroom?” she asked, and at Hermione’s nod, she gathered her bath stuff and walked to the bathroom, ready for a hot shower.

Anya sent Lavender one more cold look from the side, before she closed the bathroom door behind her.


	10. Chapter 10

**I don’t own Harry Potter**

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Anya woke up that morning when she heard rustling from the bed next to her. She huffed before pushing some of her tangled blonde hair out of her face, peering out the closed curtains around her bed to see Hermione getting ready.

“Oh! Good morning Anastasia,” Hermione said, gathering her uniform in her arms.

“Call me Anya, Hermione.” Anya said pushing herself off the bed and over to her own trunk. She pulled out the neatly folded uniform and started to strip.

“Are you excited for the first day of classes? I know it’s probably vastly different from homeschooling”

“Papa taught me a lot growing up. A lot that schools won’t teach, the lessons will be boring and redundant.” Anya said, straightening her shirt and buttoning her cuffs.

“Well, we’ll have the same classes this year so if you do need help with anything, please just ask. Would you like to walk down to breakfast together?” Hermione asked, gathering her school bag.

Anya nodded and grabbed her own shoulder bag and followed the curly haired girl down the stairs and into the common room. She followed Hermione over to where Harry and Ron seemed to be having an awkward conversation with another boy Anya recognized from dinner. Anya briefly remembered Ginny calling him Dean.

“What’s the matter?” Hermione asked the boys, “You look absolutely – oh for heaven’s sake.”

Hermione turned to the common room notice board where a bright, flashy sign had been hung.

** Gallons of Galleons! **

**Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?**

**Like to earn a little extra gold?**

**Contact Fred and George Weasley,**

**Gryffindor common room,**

**For simple, part-time virtually painless jobs**

**(we regret that all work is undertaken at applicant’s own risk)**

“They are the limit,” Hermione said with a frown, taking down the sign. “We’ll have to talk to them, Ron.”

Ron looked at the girl like she was crazy.

“Why?”

“Because we’re prefects!” Hermione said as the four walked out the portrait hole. “It’s up to us to stop this kind of thing!”

Ron said nothing, and Harry just looked between the two, seeming to not know what to say. Anya personally didn’t see a problem with what the twins were doing. She found their antics entertaining while she had stayed at Grimmauld’s Place.

“Anyways, what’s up, Harry? You look really angry about something.” Hermione continued down a corridor full of portraits that ignored the students. The corridors were full of other students mingling and making their way to the Great Hall.

Anya kept a vigilant eye on her surroundings and those around her. She might have been acting slightly paranoid, but paranoia could save her life in the right situation. Her father had always taught her to always be aware of what was going on around her, so that she could respond in a moment’s notice if she needed too.

“Seamus reckons Harry’s lying about You-Know-Who,” Ron answered when Harry stayed silent. Anya turned took look at the boy from the other side of Hermione.

“Why do you all refer to him as You-Know-Who? Are you frightened of a name?” Anya asked curiously.

Ron scowled at the girl, and Harry gave her a suspicious look. Anya felt her lips turn down into a scowl at their animosity. She was quickly getting over their attitudes towards her.

“You probably refer to him as the Dark Lord. Since your family followed him.” Ron spat.

“When will you let that go, Weasley? I’m not even from England, in case you forgot! I might share a last name as some of his followers, but I wasn’t raised by any of them. Your attitude is annoying and I’m tired of your baseless accusations of me.” Anya rolled her eyes at his childishness.

“She’s is right, Ron. You and Harry both have been antagonistic towards her since you first met her. As prefects and as fellow Gryffindor’s, it’s our job to make Anya feel welcome.” Hermione said diplomatically.

“How do you know we can trust her?” Ron scuffed.

“How do you know you can’t?” Anya responded.

“It just seems weird that you show up not long after You-Know-Who returns and that you have a last name that is connected to him.”

“Dumbledore brought me here this summer. If you can’t trust your leader, then who can you trust?”

Ron’s mouth opened and then closed, this brow furrowing in thought and turning to face forwards again.

A few seconds of silence lingered between the four before Hermione continued the previous topic.

“I know Ron said Seamus thinks you are lying, Lavender thinks so too,” Hermione said glumly.

“Been having a nice little chat with her about whether or not I’m a lying, attention-seeking prat, have you?” Harry said loudly.

“No,” Hermione said, “I told her to keep her big fat mouth shut about you, actually. And it would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down everyone’s throats, Harry, because if you haven’t noticed, we’re on your side.”

“Sorry,” Harry responded quietly.

“Was that why she was pouting when I came back from the bathroom?” Anya asked, impressed that Hermione was able to insult someone, she had assumed Hermione would be someone afraid of confrontation.

Hermione nodded to the blonde, before turning back in Harry’s direction.

“It’s alright. Don’t you remember what Dumbledore said at the end-of-term feast last year?”

Harry and Ron looked at her blankly, while Anya briefly observed one of the animal portraits on the wall as they walked past.

“About You-Know-Who. He said, _‘His gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust –”_

“How do you remember stuff like that?” Ron said with admiration in his eyes.

“I listen, Ron.”

“So, do I, but I still couldn’t tell you exactly what –”

“The point is that this sort of this is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about. You-Know-Who’s only been back two months, and we’ve started fighting among ourselves. And the Sorting Hat’s warning was the same – stand together, be united –” Hermione said over whatever Ron was getting ready to say.  
“And Harry said it last night,” Ron retorted, “if that means we’re supposed to get matey with the Slytherins, fat chance.”

“Well, I think it’s a pity we’re not trying for a bit of inter-House unity,” Hermione said crossly. Anya nodded in agreement with Hermione.

“I might be new, and I don’t have the history the three of you do with other Houses. But I do know from what I was taught, that in times of danger, you need all the allies you can get. Fighting against a common enemy is a solid foundation to win battles.” Anya said, remembering her father’s lessons.

“She’s right, you know.” Hermione said as they made it to the entrance hall where a group of young Ravenclaws were huddled. As soon as the group saw Harry however, they huddled into a tight group as if they were being stalked by a predator.

“Yeah, we really ought to be trying to make friends with people like that,” Harry’s sarcasm made Anya’s lips twitch in amusement.

The Great Hall was full of students already and all the teacher were already settled at the staff table. Unlike last night, the beautifully starry night that the enchanted ceiling had showed, was gone and now showed the grey and raining weather.

Anya followed the other three to the Gryffindor table, keeping an eye out to see if she could see Ginny. When she didn’t find her, Anya took a seat next to Hermione and across from Harry.

A tall black girl with long braided hair walked up to Harry, interrupting the conversation the three had been having about someone named ‘Hagrid’.

“Hi, Angelina.”

“Hi, good summer?” The girl’s tone was brisk, and she was quick to continue, not letting the boy respond to her question. “Listen, I’ve been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.”

“Nice one,” Harry said, grinning at her.

“Yeah, well, we need a new Keeper now Oliver’s left. Tryouts are on Friday at five o’clock and I want the whole team there, all right? Then we can see how the new person’ll fit in.”

“Okay,” He said with a smile and she abruptly turned to face Anya who had been buttering a slice of toast.

“You’re the new Gryffindor, you any good at Quidditch?” Angelina asked.

“I’m not much of an athlete,” Anya said, giving the girl a brief look through her lashes. Angelina gave a curt nod before walking away.

“I forgot Wood left,” Hermione said, getting toast. “I suppose that will make quite a difference to the team?”

“I guess, he was a good Keeper…” Harry said.

“Still, it won’t hurt to have some new blood, will it?” Ron said.

Sudden sounds of whooshing and clatter caused Anya to tense and immediately grab for her wand in her sleeve. Before she could pull it out, she saw the commotion had been caused the by hundreds of owls flying into the room.

They flew all over the hall, descending rapidly and dropping various letters and packages to students. Hermione quickly moved aside her cup of orange juice as a large brown owl crashed down in front of them with a damp Daily Prophet in its beak.

“What are you still getting that for?” Harry said irritably. Hermione gave the owl a Knut in its leather pouch and it flew off. “I’m not bothering…it’s a load of rubbish.”

“It’s best to know what the enemy is saying,” Hermione said, and Anya gave her another impressed look.

Harry, Ron and Anya didn’t talk while Hermione read. They simply finished their breakfast and waited until Hermione folded the paper and laid it down.

“Nothing about you or Dumbledore or anything.” Hermione said.

Professor McGonagall started to walk down the table, handing papers out the all the students she passed. She handed papers to the four of them with a brief ‘good morning’ before continuing.

On the paper was lists of what Anya assumed were her classes and professors. She compared it with Hermione and saw that their classes were the same.

“Look at today!” Ron groaned. “History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts…Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George’d hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted…”

“Do my ears deceive me?” Fred said, squeezing onto the bench between Harry and Ron, while George squeezed in between Anya and Hermione. “Hogwarts prefects surely don’t wish to skive off lessons?”

“Look what we’ve got today,” Ron said grumpily, shoving his paper under the Fred’s nose.

“Fair point, little bro,” Fred said. “You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like.”

“Why’s it cheap?” Ron said suspiciously.

“Because you’ll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven’t got an antidote yet,” George said.

“Cheers, but I think I’ll take the lessons.”

Anya wouldn’t admit it, but after looking at the schedule she felt some curiosity about the subjects. She was interested to see that the school taught Divination. Her father had a gift of seeing, but Anya didn’t seem to inherit that trait from him.

“Speaking of you Skiving Snackboxes, you can’t advertise for tester on the Gryffindor notice board.” Hermione said, eyeing the twins.

“Says who?” George said.

“Says me,” Hermione responded. “And Ron.”

“Leave me out of it, Hermione!” Ron said quickly.

Hermione glared at him, while the twins snickered, and Anya smirked.

“You’ll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione,” Fred said thickly, buttering a crumpet. “You’re starting your fifth year; you’ll be begging us for a Snackbox before long.”

“And why would starting fifth year mean I was one?” Hermione asked.

“Fifth year’s O.W.L year” George answered.

“So?”

“So, you’ve got your exams coming up, haven’t you? They’ll be keeping you noses so hard to that grindstone they’ll be rubbed raw,” Fred said with satisfaction.

“Half our year had minor breakdowns coming up to O.W.L.s. Tears and tantrums…Patricia Stimpson kept coming over faint…”

“Kenneth Towler came out in boils, D’you remember?” Fred said with a grin.

“That’s cause you put Buladox Power in his pajamas” Said George.

“Oh yeah, I’d forgotten… Hard to keep track sometimes, isn’t it?”

“Anyways, it’s a nightmare of a year, fifth year,” George said, getting back to the original topic. “If you care about exam results anyway. Fred and I managed to keep our spirits up somehow.”

“Yeah… you got, what was it, three O.W.L.s each?” Ron said.

“Yep, but we feel our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement.” Fred said unconcernedly.

“We seriously debated whether we were going to bother coming back for our seventh year,” George said brightly, “now that we’ve got—”

He abruptly broke of his sentence when Harry gave him a sharp look.

“— now that we’ve got our O.W.L.s,” George continued quickly. “I mean, do we really need N.E.W.T.s? But we didn’t think Mum could take us leaving school early, not on top of Percy turning out to be the world’s biggest prat.”

“We’re not going to waste our last year here, though,” Fred said, giving the Great Hall an affectionate look. “We’re going to use it to do a bit of market research, find out exactly what the average Hogwarts student requires from his joke ship, then carefully produce the products to fit the demand.”

“But where are you going to get the gold to start a joke shop?” Hermione asked skeptically. “You’re going to need all the ingredients and materials – and premises too, I suppose…”

 _“They have really thought this out. They seem like they would do well running a shop, especially a joke shop.”_ Anya thought as she observed the twins.

The sound of a fork dropping to the floor caused Anya’s eyes to leave Fred and shoot across the table to where Harry was ducking under the table. She raised an eyebrow before looking back at the twin next to her when Fred started to talk again.

“Ask us no questions and we’ll tell you no lies, Hermione. C’mon, George, if we get there early, we might be able to sell a few Extendable Ears before Herbology.” The two red heads got up and walked out of the Great Hall as Harry emerged from below the table.

“What did that mean?” Hermione asked, looking between the two boys sitting in front of her and Anya. “‘Ask us no questions…’ Does that mean they’ve already got some gold to start a joke shop?”

“You know, I’ve been wondering about that,” Ron said. “They bought me a new set of dress robes this summer, and I couldn’t understand where they got the Gallons…”

Harry interrupted before Ron could finish his sentence. “D’you reckon it’s true this year’s going to be really tough? Because of the exams?”

Anya followed the Trio’s lead when they gathered their things and left the Great Hall, going to their History of Magic class.

“Oh yeah, bound to be, isn’t it? O.W.L.s are important; affect the jobs you can apply for and everything. We get career advice too, later this year, Bill told me. So, you can choose what N.E.W.T.s you want to do next year.”

The mention of careers caused Anya to briefly stop in thought. What was she going to do after school if she didn’t manage to go back in time? She wanted to continue her father’s legacy, but she needed a way to get a follow, get a reputation and her name out there. Would a career help her accomplish that? The most prominent position of power she knew of in England was Minister of Magic, could she attempt to become Minister? It would be a risky game to play. She would have to go to further lengths to hide her identity, and that didn’t sit right with her. However, if she was Minister, she would have a powerful sway over the laws, and the Statue of Secrecy. Would her father approve of this path?

“Anya,” Hermione’s voice broke through Anya’s thought, and the girl’s sharp blue eyes shot to the girl. “Have you thought about what career you want to do after Hogwarts?”

Ron and Harry looked at the blonde too, interested in what she would say. Anya made quick eye contact with all three, before facing forwards.

“I haven’t. I always assumed I would follow my Papa’s footsteps, but that doesn’t seem possible anymore.” She said, a small trace of sadness in her voice that the Trio didn’t miss.

“What did your father do?” Hermione asked. Anya chewed the inside of her cheek, deciding the best way to answer the girl.

“You could call him a Magical Theorist, I suppose. He went around and studied different forms of magic and their uses.” It wasn’t a complete lie, Anya told herself. Her father did study magic and how to use it, just not for the sole reason of academia. “What about you three? What do you want to do?”

“It’d be cool to be an Auror,” Ron, surprisingly, was the one to answer first.

“Yeah, it would.” Harry agreed.

“But they’re, like, the elite,” said Ron. “You’ve got to be really good. What about you Hermione?”

“I don’t know,” said Hermione thoughtfully. “I think I’d really like to do something worthwhile.”

“An Auror’s worthwhile!” Harry said.

“Yes, it is, but it’s not the only worthwhile thing,” she said. “I mean, if I could take S.P.E.W further…” Anya’s curiosity was peaked when she saw the boys’ glance at each other.

“What’s S.P.E.W?” Anya asked, raising a brow when Ron quickly started to shake his head and Harry placed a hand to his temple.

“Oh! I can tell you all about it tonight during dinner!” Hermione said excitedly.

Anya settled into the seat next to Hermione who sat next to Harry, then Ron next to him. Exactly as the hour came, the ghostly apparition floating in the corner started to speak in a wheezy and droning voice. Within the first fifteen minutes, Anya was ready to fall asleep. Were all their classes going to be like this? She wasn’t sure how anyone could survive seven years here if they were.

Anya’s thoughts vaguely caught the professor lecturing about the Giant Wars, but she was mostly staring out the window, letting her thoughts wander.

When class ended Anya let her head drop in quick relief before fixing her posture and rising with Hermione and the boys.

“How would it be,” Hermione said coldly as the four of them left the room, “if I refused to lend you my notes this year?”

“We’d fail out O.W.L.s,” Ron replied. “If you want that on your conscience, Hermione…”

“Well, you’d deserve it,” she snapped. “You don’t even try to listen to him, do you?”

“We do try,” said Ron. “We just haven’t got your brains or your memory or your concentration – you’re just cleverer than we are – is it nice to rub it in?”

“Oh, don’t give me that rubbish,” Hermione said looking mollified as she led the way to the damp courtyard.

“Are all of your classes at Hogwarts that boring?” Anya asked, taking solid steps, not wanting to slip on the wet cobblestones as their group made their way across the courtyard.

“No, not really. Well, if you don’t count Snape’s. His classes are torture for anyone not in Slytherin. D.A.D.A is something new every year, but I don’t have high expectations for this year, not with Umbridge teaching.” Harry answered, grabbing Anya’s elbow as she slipped a bit.

She righted herself quickly, sending him a thankful nod. They came to stop under a dripping balcony, pulling their cloaks tighter to fight off the chilly September air.

The Trio started to tell Anya a little bit more about the professors, focusing mostly on what they expected from Snape’s class that day, when someone came around the corner.

“Hello, Harry!”

Anya noticed as Harry’s cheeks immediately blossomed with a pink hue, causing her to smirk in amusement at his obvious crush.

“Hi,” Harry said, his cheeks getting even pinker.

“You got that stuff off, then?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, grinning slightly. “So, did you…er…have a good summer?”

Anya placed the side of her fist against her mouth, hiding her amusement at his horrible attempt at talking to the girl. She shot a glance at Ron who seemed to be fighting a smirk too.

“Oh, it was all right, you know…”

“Is that a Tornado’s badge?” Ron’s smirk left his face as he pointed at the front of Cho’s robes, where a sky-blue badge with a double gold T was pinned. “You don’t support them, do you?”

“Yeah, I do,” She said.

“Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?” Ron said, with an accusatory tone.

“I’ve supported them since I was six,” Cho said coolly. “Anyway…see you, Harry.”

She walked away. The group watched as she made her way hallway across the courtyard before Hermione rounded on Ron.

“You are so tactless!”

“What? I only asked her if—”

“Couldn’t you tell she wanted to talk to Harry on her own?”

“So? She could’ve done, I wasn’t stopping—”

“What on earth were you attacking her about her Quidditch team for?”

“Attacking? I wasn’t attack her; I was only—”

“Who _cares_ if she supports the Tornado's?”

“Oh, come on, half the people you see wearing those badges only bought them last season—”

“But what does it _matter_?”

“It means they’re not real fans, they’re just jumping on the bandwagon—”

“I don’t mean to interrupt this wonderfully, amusing argument, but in my opinion, their conversation seemed on its way to disaster. Someone had to step in before it got even more painfully awkward.” Anya said giggling. Harry shot her a glare, but his pink cheeks didn’t make it seem very intimidating.

“That’s the bell,” Harry said, trying to change the subject completely. Seeming to ignore Anya’s input, Ron and Hermione continued to argue on the way down to the dungeons.

They joined the line outside the classroom, Anya observing the other students around them. She recognized some of the other Gryffindor’s and she tried to place names to their faces.

The classroom door opened with an ominous creek, the students all filing in. Anya join the three at a table, settling on the side between Hermione and Harry.

“Settle down,” Snape’s cold voice echoed through the room, as he shut the door behind him. Anya seemed the ordinance call was unnecessary since the sound all stopped as soon as the door closed.

“Before we being today’s lesson,” said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, “I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of the class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an ‘Acceptable’ in your O.W.L. or suffer my…displeasure.”

His gaze seemed to linger on Longbottom, causing the boy to fidget uncomfortably in his seat.

“After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me,” Snape continued. “I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye.”

His eyes rested this time on Harry, his lips curling his distaste.

“But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell,” said Snape softly, “so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L students.”

“Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: The Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing.” Anya wasn’t worried about Potions, it wasn’t her favorite subject to study with her Papa, but she wasn’t bad at it by any means. She had made The Draught of Peace on a few occasions for her Papa after he had a particularly grueling day.

“The ingredients and method” —Snape flicked his wand, causing the instructions to appear— “are on the blackboard. You will find everything you need in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half…Start.”

Anya got to work on her potion, going through the meticulous instructions to create it. She gave a quick wave over her hair, using magic to stop it from frizzing from the amount of steam in the room.

“A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion,” Snape called out when there were ten minutes left.

Anya glanced around the room, curios about how others were doing. Harry was sweating profusely and looking around desperately. His cauldron was giving off large amount of dark grey steam; Ron’s was shooting of green sparks. Seamus was prodding the flames at the base of his cauldron with the tip of his wand, causing Anya to wince at his idiocy. Anya and Hermione’s cauldron were both a shimmering silver mist, Snape came by and looked down his nose at their work, but not giving any criticism. However, when he looked at Harry’s cauldron a horrible smirk came across his face.

“Potter, what is this supposed to be?”

“The Draught of Peace,” Harry said tensely.

“Tell me, Potter,” said Snape softly, “can you read?”

Anya heard a sharp laugh from the front of the room where the Slytherin’s all sat. Looking up and meeting eyes with another sharp pair of grey. Malfoy sent her a smirk, and a quick look over before turning to the boy next to him.

“Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter.”

“Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.’”

Anya say Harry’s face drop, realizing the step he had missed.

“Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?”

“No,” Harry said quietly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“No,” Harry said louder. “I forgot the hellebore…”

“I know you did, Potter, which means this mess is utterly worthless. _Evanesco.”_ The contents of Harry’s cauldron vanished.

“Those of you who _have_ managed to ready the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing,” said Snape. “Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday.”

Anya filled a flagon full of her potion, marking it with her elegant cursive, before getting in line to place it onto Snape’s desk. When She, Hermione and Ron made it back to the table to gather their things, Harry was already gone.

“Is he always like that?” Anya asked as they walked to lunch.

“Who Snape? Yeah. He a tosser.” Ron grumbled, and Hermione simply hummed in agreement. They arrived at the Great Hall and sat around Harry.

“That was really unfair,” Hermione said consolingly, helping herself to some shepherd’s pie. Anya helped herself to a simple soup, the warmth of the broth filling her stomach pleasantly. “Your potion wasn’t nearly as bad as Goyle’s. when he out it in his flagon the while thing shattered and set his robes on fire.”

“Yeah, well,” Harry said, glowering at his plate, “since when had Snape ever been fair to me?”

“I did think he might be a bit better this year,” Hermione said disappointingly. “I mean…you know…” She looks around carefully, before continuing. “…Now he’s in the Order and everything.”

“Poisonous toadstools don’t change their spots,” Ron said sagely. “Anyway, I’ve always thought Dumbledore was cracked trusting Snape, where’s the evidence he ever really stopped working for You-Know-Who?”

“I think Dumbledore’s probably got plenty of evidence, even if he doesn’t share it with you, Ron.” Hermione snapped.

“Hermione has a point. Dumbledore doesn’t seem incompetent from what I’ve gathered. If he trusts Snape, then he must have a good reason for it. You don’t need to like each other to be allies.” Anya added.

“Oh, shut up, all of you,” Harry said heavily, and Ron opened his mouth to argue back. “Can’t you give it a rest?” he said. “You’re always having a go at each other; it’s driving me mad.” He abandoned the rest of his food, gathering his school back onto his shoulder and left them sitting in the Great Hall.

Hermione broke off from them to go to her own class while Anya followed Ron to Divination, which turned out to be a disappointment. She had expected more, especially with growing up with her Papa’s gift of sight and being a firsthand witness of his power, Professor Trelawney seemed like a fake.

Anya walked with Ron and Harry to Defense Against the Dark Arts, listening to Ron grumble about homework.

“D’you realize how much homework we’ve got already. Binns set us a foot-and-a-half long essay on giant wars, Snape wants a foot on the use of moonstones, and now we’ve got a month’s dream diary from Trelawney! Fred and George weren’t wrong about O.W.L. year, were they? That Umbridge woman better not give us any…” When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they didn’t see Umbridge anywhere.

Harry and Ron settled into the desk behind Hermione and Anya settled into the seat next to the bushy haired girl. A paper bird was fluttering around the room, lifting the spirits of everyone.

Anya even smiled at the sight as the bird flew to her, she gently pushed up on the bottom of it, giving it a boost to continue flying. Everyone was giggling and talking, until the bird caught fire and fell onto one of Patil sister’s desk.

Everyone turned to see Umbridge standing at the top of the stairs, leading to what Anya assumed was her office. Umbridge gave the class a sickly-sweet smile and she walked down the steps and stop in front of her desk.

“Well, good afternoon!” She said when the class finally settled down.

A few people mumble a half-hearted “Good afternoon” in response.

“Tut, tut,” said Umbridge. “That won’t do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’ One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” They chanted back to her.

“There, now,” Umbridge said sweetly. “That wasn’t too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.”

Anya pulled out the textbook she had been required to buy at the start of the year, placing it in the center of her desk and sitting up straight.

Umbridge opened her handbag and pulled out an unusually short wand and tapped the blackboard sharply, words appearing immediately:

_Defense Against the Dark Arts_

_A Return to Basic Principles._

“Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn’t it?” Umbridge stared, clasping her hands together as she faced the class. “The constant changing of teacher, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.”

“You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.”

She tapped the blackboard again; the first message vanishing and was quickly replaced by:

_Course aims;_

  1. _Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic._
  2. _Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used._
  3. _Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use._



Anya wrote the message down lazily. Not very interested in what Umbridge would be teaching them. Anya most likely knew the defensive magic they would be learned, along with the offensive magic they were being taught to defend against.

“Has everyone got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?”

A dull murmur of agreement echoed through the class.

“I think we’ll try that again,” Umbridge said. “When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply ‘Yes, Professor Umbridge,’ or ‘No, Professor Umbridge.’ So, has everyone got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?”

“Yes, Professor Umbridge,” rang out across the room.

“Good. I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, ‘Basics for Beginners.’ There will be no need to talk.”

Umbridge settled herself down at her desk and observed them all closely. Anya turned to page five and skimmed the contents. The chapter was incredibly dull, and Anya was already disappointed in how her first Defense Against the Dark Arts class was going. Anya spared a glance at Hermione and was surprised to find that the girl hadn’t even opened her book. Instead, she was staring at Umbridge with her hand held high in the air.

After several minute of Hermione holding her hand in the air, everyone had abandoned their reading and were now watching the Gryffindor girl. When Umbridge realized she could no longer ignore Hermione, she finally addressed the girl.

“Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?” She asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.

“Not about the chapter, no,” Hermione answered.

“Well, we’re reading just now. If you have other queries, we can deal with them at the end of class.”

“I’ve got a query about your course aims,” said Hermione.

Umbridge raised her thin eyebrows at the girl.

“And your name is –?”

“Hermione Granger.”

“Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully,” Umbridge said with a determined sweetness.

“Well, I don’t,” Hermione said bluntly. “There’s nothing written up there about _using_ defensive spells.”

Anya could see the other students turning back to the blackboard to see if what Hermione said was true.

“ _Using_ defensive spells?” Umbridge repeated with a laugh. “Why, I can’t imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to _use_ a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren’t expecting to be attacked during class?”

“We’re not going to use magic?” Ron added loudly.

“Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.—?”

“Weasley,” Ron said, thrusting his hand into the air.

Umbridge’s smile got wider as she turned her back on the red-haired boy. Harry and Hermione raising their hands now too. Umbridge’s eyes lingered on Harry for a few seconds before she addressed Hermione once again.

“Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?”

“Yes. Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?”

“Are you a Ministry-trained education expert, Miss Granger?” Umbridge asked in her falsely sweet voice.

“No, but—”

“Well then, I’m afraid you are not qualified to decide what the ‘whole point’ of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—”

“What use is that?” Harry asked loudly. “If we’re going to be attacked it won’t be in a –”

“ _Hand_ , Mr. Potter!” Umbridge sang.

Anya agreed with Harry. Spell work needed to be practiced to fully understand how to use it and to successful cast them. It wouldn’t be enough to read theory about them and then produce a successful spell. And she knew first-hand that knowing defensive spells could save their lives in a split second, it was essential knowledge.

Several people now hand their hands in the air.

“And your name is?” Umbridge said to Dean.

“Dean Thomas.”

“Well, Mr. Thomas?”

“Well, its like Harry said, isn’t it?” said Dean. “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be risk-free –”

“I repeat,” Umbridge said, smiling antagonistically at Dean. “Do you expect to be attacked during my classes?”

“No, but—”

Umbridge then talked over him.

“I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school,” her smile was unconvincing, “but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed – not to mention,” She have a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”

“If you mean Professor Lupin,” Dean piped up angrily, “he was the best we ever –”

“ _Hand_ , Mr. Thomas! As I was saying – you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day—”

“No, we haven’t,” Hermione said, “we just—”

_“Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!”_

Hermione shot her hand into the hair, a frustrated look on her face, Umbridge turning away from her.

“It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them _on_ you –”

“Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn’t he?” said Dean hotly. “Mind you, we still learned loads –”

_“Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!”_

“Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than enough to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?” She added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had raised.

“Parvati Patil, and isn’t there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? aren’t we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter curses and things?”

“As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions,”

Anya scoffed out loud and raised her hand as Umbridge turned and faced her sharply.

“Miss…?

“Rosier. You expect students to perform a spell for the first time during an exam? Truly? Studying a spell without practicing it before using it, is just asking for accidents to happen. Let alone trying to accomplish the spells under a stressful environment such as an exam. Are you truly qualified to be a teacher?”

Umbridge looked shocked at Anya direct insult.

“I don’t think a student such as yourself can comment on my teaching qualifications. As a Ministry official I am highly qualified, whereas you don’t know these spells.”

“I’m not on the same level at these other fifth years. I know the counter curses and the curses as well. My Papa was a very capable wizard and taught me all that I know. Which, I can only assume is more then you can ever hope to accomplish.” Anya said leaning forwards of her desk, placing her chin gently on top of her clasped hands, arrogance filling her voice.

“You can’t practice magic outside of school—”

“I wasn’t under your Ministry’s authority until just recently, _Madame._ I did not follow the English laws growing up.”

“You may have been taught these spells outside of school, but it still does not warrant the need to teach English students these spells in a practical manner.” Umbridge said tensely.

“And what good would theory be in the real world?” Harry interrupted, his fist in the air.

“This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world.” She said softly.

“So, we’re not supposed to be prepared for what’s waiting out there?”

“There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry said, his temper clearly rising.

“Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?” Umbridge inquired in a honeyed voice.

“Hmm, let’s think…” Harry said mockingly, “maybe _Lord Voldemort_?”

Anya and Umbridge seemed to be the only ones who didn’t give a reaction to the cursed named.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter.”

Everyone was silent now, staring between Harry or Umbridge.

“Now, let me make a few things quite plain.” Umbridge stood and placed her hands on her desk.

“You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead—”

“He wasn’t dead,” Harry said angrily, “but yeah, he’s returned!”

“Mr. Potter, you have already lost your House ten points do not make matters worse for yourself,” Umbridge said not looking at him. “As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. _This is a lie_.”

“It is NOT a lie!” Harry spat. “I saw him, I fought him!”

“Detention, Mr. Potter!” said Umbridge triumphantly. “Tomorrow evening. Five o’clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any dark wizard. If you are still worried, but all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, ‘Basics for Beginners.’”

Umbridge sat down once again and Harry stood from his own desk. Anya was intrigued with the boy and his passion for standing for what he believed. She may not have the whole story about what this boy had been through or what this Lord Voldemort was capable of, but she could tell the boy wasn’t a liar. Maybe a git, but not a liar.

“Harry, no!” Hermione whispered warningly.

“So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?” Harry asked, his voice shaking.

Anya could hear the gasps throughout the class. Anya knew the basic idea of the Diggory boy, but nothing specific. It was information no one deemed important for her to know.

“Cedric Diggory’s death was a tragic accident,” Umbridge said coldly.

“It was murder,” Harry spat. “Voldemort killed him, and you know it.”

Umbridge face was lacking her fake smile and was completely blank.

“Come here, Mr. Potter, dear.”

Harry kicked aside his chair and stroke to her desk. Umbridge pulled out a small roll of pink parchment and dipped a quick, scrawling a quick note onto it. After a moment, she tapped it with her wand, causing it to roll up, and handed it to him.

Before he could take it, Anya decided to speak up once more.

“From what I can tell, it seems that your Ministry fears this man so much, it is willing to throw away all logic and fact for a false sense of security. Is the Ministries power so fragile that it must lie to its people about a very real threat?”

“ _Your hand is not up, Miss Rosier!_ ” Umbridge shrilled.

“If that true then you are working in his favor. I remember a story I heard that during Grindelwald’s revolution something similar happened in Italy. The Italian Ministry feared his power and influence so much, they hid the truth from their people, which then lead to oppression of them. Do you know what happened next? The Italian people were drawn to Grindelwald’s message of freedom and it allowed him to gain a foothold in the country, right under the Ministry’s nose. Your fear will set you up for failure and ruin.” Anya said darkly.

Umbridge’s face reddened slightly, and she stared at the girl for a moment longer.

“Detention, Miss Rosier. Same as Mr. Potter. My office, five o’clock tomorrow night.”

Anya connected eyes with Harry as he turned to walk out of the room, note clutched in hand. Anya didn’t know what made her stand up for the boy, but she didn’t regret it.

 _“So much for keeping my head down like Lupin said”_ Anya thought with a small smirk.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

**I made a double chapter for you guys! I hope you enjoyed it. I completely made up the whole situation with Grindelwald and Italy. I just thought it would be nice for Anya to make a comparison between her experiences and the current ones she is facing. I always thought it was moronic the way the Ministry handled Voldemort’s return, and I want Anya to embody that belief. Let me know what you guys think!**


	11. Chapter 11

**I don’t own Harry Potter**

**XXXXXXXXX**

Defense Against the Dark Arts class ended without any more incidents after Harry had left. Anya had half a mind to cause trouble for the pretentious Ministry woman, but she decided it was best to leave it and attempt to take Lupin’s advice.

Anya followed Hermione and Ron out of the classroom, and Hermione immediately turned to the blonde and gave her a sharp look.

“What were you and Harry thinking?” She demanded.

Anya stared at her for a moment, an eyebrow raised. She wasn’t used to being scolded by someone other then her father.

“I—”

“She works for the Ministry! Harry is already walking on thin ice with them, and now you both argued with Umbridge!” Hermione continued, as they continued down the hall.

“Hermione—”

“I can’t believe the both of you would be so stupid!”

“Hermione! I understand your need to be correct and in control, but you will not scold me. I won’t be treated like some misbehaving child.” Anya snapped coolly, irritated with the brunette girl interrupting her.

“Why’d you defend Harry anyways?” Ron spoke up for the first time as they entered the Great Hall. Anya shrugged, placing her bag down and sitting on the bench next to Hermione.

“I might not like him very much, but I can tell he isn’t a liar. Besides, the little I do know about this Voldemort makes him seem like a threat, a pitiful one, but still a threat, nonetheless. Besides, the rebelliousness in me was itching to see the woman’s smug expression leave her face.” Anya said with a small smirk.

Hermione and Anya started on their homework together, while Ron talked to Neville, who had sat next to him. It didn’t take long for Harry to join them in the Great Hall, along with the other students for dinner.

As the food was served, Anya could hear students all around the hall gossiping about the shouting match that her and Harry had gotten into with Umbridge. They mostly focused on Harry’s involvement, but Anya heard herself mentioned a few times.

“He says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered…”

“Come off it…”

“Who does he think he’s kidding?”

“Pur- _lease_ …”

“I heard the new girl defended him…”

“She talked about Grindelwald…”

“Probably just trying to latch onto Potter because of his fame…”

Anya rolled her eyes at the last one. If they knew who she truly was, then they would know she had no need to latch herself onto someone else for fame. Her father was the most powerful wizard who had ever lived, their surname reached the far ends of the world, whereas Harry’s might only be in the United Kingdom.

“What I don’t get,” Harry said in a shaky voice, setting down his cutlery, “is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them…”

“The thing is, Harry, I’m not sure they did,” Hermione said grimly. “Oh, let’s get out of here.”

She slammed down her knife and fork, Anya side-eyed the girl’s actions, before elegantly wiping her mouth with her napkin and setting down her own fork. The four of them grabbed their bags and walked out of the Hall, people staring at them as they left.

“What d’you mean, you’re not sure they believed Dumbledore?” Harry asked.

“Look, you don’t understand what it was like after it happened,” Hermione said quietly. “You arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric’s dead body…None of us saw what happened in the maze…We just had Dumbledore’s word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you.”

“Which is the truth!” Harry said loudly.

“I know it is, Harry, so will you _please_ stop biting my head off?” Hermione said with a sigh. “It’s just that before the truth could sink in, everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you’re a nutcase and Dumbledore’s going senile!”

The Gryffindor Town was warm and inviting when they walked in. Everyone was still in the Great Hall, so they had the common room to themselves. The rain pounded against the windows, soothing Anya’s mind. She wished that she was back in her father’s study, bundled on top of the mound of pillows she had gathered in there. Reading a book with her father as they watched the rain. It was one of her favorite things to do with him.

Crookshanks was curled up in the armchair but stretched out as they all took spots in front of the fire, jumping softly into Hermione’s lap.

The room was silent for a few moments, Anya basked in the peace, quietly starting to braid her hair over her shoulder.

“ _How_ can Dumbledore have let this happen?” Hermione cried out suddenly, causing the boys to jump and Crookshanks to leap off her and into Anya’s lap instead, looking offended. “How can he let that terrible woman teach us? And in our O.W.L year too!” She said as she pounded her arms against the arm rest of her chair.

“Well. We’ve never had great Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we?” said Harry. “You know what it’s like, Hagrid told us, nobody wants the job, they say it’s jinxed.”

“Yes, but to employ someone who’s actually refusing to let us do magic! _What’s_ Dumbledore playing at?”

“And she’s trying to get people to spy for her,” Ron said darkly. “Remember when she said she wanted us to come and tell her if we hear anyone saying You-Know-Who’s back?”

“Of course, she’s here to spy on us all, that’s obvious, why else would Fudge have wanted her to come?” Snapped Hermione.

“If it was his plan to have her as a spy, its not a very good one. He should have gone about bribing and paying some of the students to gather information. They would hear inside gossip that may avoid the teachers. Especially a woman like Umbridge. Not many will freely talk about anything with a woman like her hanging over their shoulders.” Anya added, finishing her braid and tying it off.

“You think students would do that?” Ron asked.

“If you offer the right price, anyone can be bought.” Anya said simply.

“Can we not argue about it? Let’s just do our homework, get it out of the way…”

Anya settled on the floor with her back to the fire, across from Harry who was sharing the coffee table with her. Their books and parchment scattered around the surface.

The other students started drifting in from dinner around this time, their voices breaking the peaceful silence that had overcome the four of them.

“Should we do Snape’s stuff first?” Ron said. _“The properties…of moonstone…and its uses…in potion-making…”_ he muttered, writing them down on his parchment, before looking at Hermione expectantly.

“So, what are the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making?”

“Why not look in your textbook, Weasely?” Anya answered instead, causing the boy to shoot her a snarky look.

Hermione hadn’t answered the question, instead she was staring at Fred, George, and Lee Jordan in the corner with a bunch of first years, who were chewing on something that seemed to have come out of the bag Fred was holding.

“No, I’m sorry, they’ve gone too far,” she said, getting up, with a furious look on her face. “Come on, Ron.”

“I—what?” Ron said, trying to buy some time. “No – come on, Hermione – we can’t tell them off for giving out sweets…”

“You know perfectly well that those are bits of Nosebleed Nougats or – Puking Pastilles or—”

“Fainting Fancies?” Harry suggested.

Anya watched as one by one the first years would drop unconscious in their seats, some sliding out of them and onto the hardwood floor. Anya giggled at the sight along with Harry, while Hermione straightened her shoulders and marched over the older boys. Ron rose halfway out of his chair, before sitting back down. “She’s got it under control.” He muttered.

“That’s enough!” Hermione said forcefully to Fred and George who looked up in mild surprise.

“Yeah, you’re right,” George said, “this dosage looks strong enough, doesn’t it?”

“I told you this morning, you can’t test your rubbish on students!”

“We’re paying them!” Fred said indignantly.

“I don’t care, it could be dangerous!”

“Rubbish,” Fred said dismissively.

“Calm down, Hermione, they’re fine!” said Lee with a reassuring smile, popping small purple candies into the various first years mouths.

“Yeah, look, they’re coming round now,” George said.

Some of the first years were waking up and looked confused as to why they were on the floor or dangling off their chairs.

“Feel all right?” George said kindly to one girl lying at his feet.

“I-I think so,” she said quietly.

“Excellent!” Fred said with a bright smile. The smile quickly left his face as Hermione snatched his clipboard and the paper bag of Fainting Fancies from him.

“It is NOT excellent!”

“’Course it is, they’re alive, aren’t they?” Fred said angrily.

“You can’t do this, what if you made one of them really ill?”

“We’re not going to make them ill, we’ve already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same—”

“If you don’t stop doing it, I’m going to—”

“Put us in detention?” Fred said in a smug voice.

“Make us right lines?” George joined in with a smirk.

Those who were watching were laughing, Anya included.

“No,” Hermione’s eyes were narrowed, and her voice was shaking in anger, “but I will write to your mother.”

“You wouldn’t,” George said horrified.

“Oh, yes, I would,” Hermione said grimly. “I can’t stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you’re not giving them to first years.”

Fred and George looked at the girl thunderstruck. Hermione’s threat clearly struck below the belt for them. With one last threating look, she shoved the bag back into Fred’s chest and marched back over to where Anya, Ron and Harry still sat by the fire.

“Thanks for the support, Ronald.” Hermione spat.

“You handled it fine by yourself,” He mumbled.

Hermione plopped down on her previously abandoned chair, staring blankly at her parchment. Before huffing and said, “Oh, it’s no good, I can’t concentrate now. I’m going to bed.”

She jerked open her bag, pulling out two oddly shaped wool objects, placing them carefully on the table, and covering them with some torn up bits of parchment and a broken quill.

As she admired the scene, Anya looked between her and the mess with a raised brow.

“Was there a point to that, Hermione?” Anya asked, gathering her stuff together.

“They’re hats for house-elves,” Hermione answered briskly, placing her books inside her bag. “I did them over the summer. I’m a really slow knitter without magic, but now I’m back at school I should be able to make lots more.”

“You are knitting hats for house-elves?” Anya was confused as to why Hermione was so concerned about them. Did it have to do with the organization she had mentioned that morning?

“Why did you cover them with rubbish?” Ron asked slowly.

“So, they will pick them up.”

“That’s not on,” Ron said angrily. “You’re trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You’re setting them free when they might not want to be free.”

“Of course, they want to be free!” Hermione said hotly, although her face was turning pink. “Don’t you dare touch those hats, Ron!” She marched up the stairs with a quick goodnight.

“Does she truly think that house-elves want to be free?” Anya asked the boys skeptically.

“Yeah, she is a bit obsessed with it, calls it S.P.E.W., I think. She’s been on about it since last year.” Ron said with an eye roll. He brushed off the rubbish that was covering the hats but left them on the table.

“They should at least see what they’re picking up,” he said firmly.

Anya waved her wand and the hats abruptly vanished with a quite ‘pop’. Ron and Harry turned to look at the blonde with wide eyes, internally panicking about what Hermione will do when she finds out.

“Why’d you do that? Hermione’s gonna to go mental!” Ron said fearfully.

“She won’t know unless either of you tell her.” Anya said easily as she rose off the floor and placed her bag over her shoulder.

“I’m going off to bed as well, Goodnight.” Anya said with a sharp nod and walked up the stairs to get ready for bed.

It was still raining when Anya woke the next morning. She joined Ginny for breakfast that morning, talking and getting more acquainted with Dean and Seamus. She found Dean polite and sweet, while Seamus was funny and charming.

The morning classes went by slowly, and Anya was tempted to skip the rest of them in favor of going to the library to see if she could find any information about where her father was imprisoned but ultimately decided against it.

A good portion of Transfiguration and Charms were spent with the professors lecturing on how important O.W.L.s were for them that year, and Anya didn’t know how many times it had to be repeated before they understood that the students got the message.

They had practiced Vanishing Spells in Transfiguration, Anya and Hermione were the only ones who were able to successfully perform the spell and they were able to gain their House twenty points along with being the only ones who didn’t get homework for the class.

She joined Hermione in the library for lunch, not wanting to be left alone with the boys. The three of them might not be at each other’s throats anymore but she still wasn’t close enough to Ron and Harry to be alone with them for a long period of time.

Finally, it came time for Care of Magical Creatures. This was a class that Anya would admit she had been looking forward too. She enjoyed studying magical creatures as a small child from the various books her father had on them.

It had stopped raining, and the day became cool and breezy. The ground was damp, and the air smelled like wet earth as Anya walked down the hill with the Trio.

Professor Grubbly-Plank stood waiting for the class a few yards away from the hut on the grounds, with a table set up in front of her, filled with various twigs.

As the four of them reached her, loud laughter came from behind them. Anya turned around to see Malfoy and a few other Slytherins striding towards them.

She met eyes with Malfoy, and he sent her a flirtatious smirk. She raised a brow at him but didn’t turn away. His group continued to laugh and look at Harry as they did so, but Malfoy’s eyes were glued to Anya’s figure. He gave her a slow once over and sent her a wink as his smirk grew wider. Anya rolled her eyes and finally turned away as the professor started to speak.

“Everyone here?” barked Professor Grubbly-Plant, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors had arrived. “Let’s crack on then – who can tell me what these things are called?”

She waved a hand over the twigs on the table. Hermione’s hand shot in the air, Anya’s rising as well. An ugly, high pitch laugh broke out from behind her, but quickly turned to a short scream as the twigs jumped into the air and reveled themselves to be pixie-like creatures.

“Ooooohh!” Parvati and Lavender exclaimed loudly, causing a sharp sting of irritation to shoot through Anya.

“Kindly keep your voices down, girls!” the professor said sharply, scattering what seemed to be brown rice among the creatures, who immediately started feeding.

“So— anyone know the names of these creatures? Miss Granger?”

“Bowtruckles,” Hermione said. “They’re tree-guardians, they usually live in wand-trees.”

“Five points to Gryffindor,” said Professor Grubbly-Plank. “Yes, these are Bowtruckles and, as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?”

“Wood lice,” Hermione said promptly. “But fairy eggs if they can get them.”

“Good girl, take another five points. So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a Bowtruckles lodges, it is wise to have a gift of wood lice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will gouge out human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So, if you’d like to gather closer, take a few wood lice and a Bowtruckles – I have enough here for one between three – you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson.”

Anya and the others gathered around the table with the other students, and she overheard Harry’s conversation.

“Where’s Hagrid?” He asked the professor.

“Never you mind,” she said repressively. Malfoy leaned across Harry and grabbed the largest Bowtruckle.

“Maybe, the stupid oaf’s got himself badly injured.”

“Maybe you will if you don’t shut up,” Harry responded.

“Maybe he’s been messing with stuff that’s too _big_ for him, if you get my drift.”

Malfoy gave Harry one last smug smirk before he gave another flirtatious wink to Anya when he caught her eye once more as he walked away.

Anya caught sight of Hermione waving for her and Harry to join them from where she and Ron had settled onto the grass. The two of them pulled out their parchment and Harry immediately started whispering about what Malfoy had said.

“Dumbledore would know if something had happened to Hagrid,” Hermione said. “It’s just playing into Malfoy’s hands to look worried; it tells him we don’t know exactly what’s going on. We’ve got to ignore him, Harry. Here, hold the Bowtruckle for a moment, just so I can draw its face…”

“Yes,” came Malfoy’s clear drawl from the group closest to them, “Father was talking to the Minister just a couple of days ago, you know, and it sounds as though the Ministry’s really determined to crack down on substandard teaching in this place. So even if that over-grown moron does show up again, he’ll probably be sent packing straight away.”

“OUCH!”

Anya turned to see Harry abruptly dropping the Bowtruckle with a, now, bloodied hand. The small creature raced off towards the forest and was quickly gone from her sight. When the bell echoed in the distance, they started to gather their supplies. Anya could see Harry struggling to put his stuff in his bag while trying to avoid getting blood on everything.

“Here, Potter. Give me your hand.” She said reaching into her pocket and pulling out a white handkerchief. He hesitantly held out his hand, and she gently wrapped the fabric around it, quickly tying it off.

“Thanks.” He said quietly.

The four of them made their way to Herbology in silence, the tension and anger rolling off Harry made the air around them uncomfortable and thick.

“If he calls Hagrid a moron one more time…” snarled Harry.

“Harry, don’t go picking a row with Malfoy, don’t forget, he’s a prefect now, he could make life difficult for you…”

“Wow, I wonder what it’d be like to have a difficult life?” Harry said, sarcasm dripping from his lips. Ron laughed, but Anya saw the deep frown Hermione have him.

“I just wish Hagrid would hurry up and get back, that’s all,” Harry said quietly, as they reached the greenhouses. “And _don’t_ say that Grubbly-Plank woman’s a better teacher!” he added threateningly.

“I wasn’t going too,” Hermione said calmly.

“Because she’ll never be as good as Hagrid.” He said firmly.

The door to the greenhouse opened and some fourth years exited, including Ginny.

“Hi!” She said brightly as she passed them, a few seconds later, Luna walked by them with dirt smudge on her nose and her hair tied in a knot on the top of her head.

When she saw Harry, her eyes widened in excitement and she made a beeline for him. The other students watched curiously. 

Luna stopped before him and took a deep breath before speaking, “I believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, and I believe you fought him and escaped from him.”

“Er—right,” Harry said awkwardly.

Lavender and Parvati’s laughter came from behind them, as they pointed at Luna.

“You can laugh!” Luna said, her voice rising. “But people used to believe there were no such things as Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!”

“Well, they were right, weren’t they?” Hermione said impatiently. “There weren’t any such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.”

Luna sent the girl a withering look, before prancing away. More students were laughing now.

“D’you mind not offending the only people who believe me?” Harry asked of Hermione.

“Of, for heaven’s sake, Harry, you can do better then her,” said Hermione. “Ginny’s told me all about her, apparently she’ll only believe in things as long as there’s no proof at all. Well, I wouldn’t expect anything else from someone whose father runs _The Quibbler_.” Before Harry could say anything more, a tall boy with the Hufflepuff crest on his robes stepped towards them.

“I want you to know, Potter,” He said in a carrying voice, “that it’s not only weirdos who support you. I personally believe you one hundred percent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore. And so, do I.”

“Er— thanks very much, Ernie.” Harry said with a pleased voice that was still tinged with some awkwardness.

As the boy walked away, and they all went into the greenhouse, Anya settle into the spot between Hermione and Harry and turned to the green-eyed boy.

“You should learn to be more confident in your replies when someone says they support you. A strong disposition and persona will make you seem like a strong leader and a more credible source.” She said like it was a basic thing to know.

“Sorry to disappoint you with my awkward responses. I doubt you could do any better. You would probably just ignore them.” He said with a hint of anger.

“Not if their support was something I needed. You need to learn to play and understand people if you want them to support you.”

Professor Sprout came in at that moments and started the lesson before anything more could be said. She spent the first fifteen minutes talking about the important of O.W.L.s just like McGonagall and Flitwick had done earlier that morning.

Once class ended, the four of them headed straight for dinner, wanting to get it done early since Anya and Harry had detention with Umbridge at five. Right as they made it to the entrance to the Great Hall a loud and angry voice called out, “Oy, Potter!”

“What now?” He muttered, turning to face Angelina, who looked as if she was in the middle of throwing a tantrum.

“I’ll tell you what now,” she said marching straight up to him, and poked him hard in the chest with her index finger. “How come you’ve landed yourself in detention for five o’clock on Friday?”

“What?” Harry said. “Why… of yeah, Keeper tryouts!”

“ _Now_ he remembers!” Angelina snarled. “Didn’t I tell you I wanted to do a tryout with the _whole team_ , and find someone _who fitted in with everyone?_ Didn’t I tell you I’d booked the Quidditch pitch specifically? And now you’ve decided you’re not going to be there!”

“I didn’t decide not to be there!” Harry cried indignantly. I got detention from that Umbridge woman, just because I told her truth about You-Know-Who—”

“Well, you can just go straight to her and ask her to let you off on Friday,” Angelina said fiercely, “and I don’t care how you do it, tell her You-Know-Who’s a figment of your imagination if you like, _just make sure you’re there_!” She stormed away.

“Why are you all so obsessed with Quidditch?” Anya asked as they started their way into the Great Hall.

“Its only the greatest sport to ever exist! How can you not love Quidditch?” Ron exclaimed and Harry made a sound of agreement, while Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it; I just don’t understand why its such an obsession. It’s not bad to watch from time to time.”

They settled down at the table. Harry and Anya on one side while Ron and Hermione sat across from them.

“You know what?” Harry said, “we should check with Puddlemere United whether Oliver Wood’s been killed during a training session, because she seems to be channeling his spirit.”

“Who’s Oliver Wood?” Anya asked.

“He was the previous Keeper and Gryffindor Quidditch Captain before Angelina.” Harry answered and she nodded in understanding.

“What d’you reckon are the odds of Umbridge letting you off on Friday?” Ron said skeptically.

“Less then zero,” Harry said, grabbing some lamb chops. “Better try, though, hadn’t I? I’ll offer to do two more detention or something, I dunno…” He swallowed before adding, “I hope she doesn’t keep me to long this evening. You realize we’ve got to write three essays, practice Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, work out a countercharm for Flitwick, finish the Bowtruckle drawing, and start that stupid dream diary for Trelawney?”

Ron groaned and glanced up at the ceiling.

“ _And_ it looks like it’s going to rain.”

“What’s that got to do with our homework?” Hermione said, raising her eyebrows.

“Nothing,” Ron said quickly, his ears reddening.

“What do detentions usually consist of here? Papa never gave them to me if I got in trouble, I would usually just be sent to my room.”

“Most professors usually just make students do lines or clean. Although, Ron and I got sent to the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid once in our first year.” Harry answered.

“Yeah, but who knows what Umbridge has in store for you guys.” Ron said wearily.

“Don’t be silly, Ronald. She will most likely just give them lines.” Hermione said dismissively. 

Ten minutes to five, Anya and Harry made their way out of the Great Hall and to Umbridge’s office. Anya could feel some nervousness building inside her chest, but she was quickly trying to beat it down, knowing that she could easily get through some lines.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**I hope you guys enjoyed it! Its been about two weeks since my last update and I think I wanna make that my schedule for updating. Every two week or so I’m gonna try and have a new chapter up for you all. Thank you for reading!**


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